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Iberoes  of  tbe  TKlations 

EDITED    BV 

f).  WL.  Carlese  S)ax>i6,  /H>.£1. 

FELLOW   OF  BALLIOL  COLLEGE,  OXFORD 


OPEROSAQUE 


CONSTANTINE 


CONSTANTINE  THE  GREAT. 

FROM    THE    BRITISH     MUSEUM    PRINT    ROOM. 


Frontisjii, 


CONSTANTINE 
THE  GREAT 

THE  REORGANISATION   OF  THE  EMPIRE  AND 
THE  TRIUMPH  OF  THE  CHURCH 


JOHN  B.  FIRTH 

(sometime  scholar  of  queen's  college,  oxford) 

AUTHOR   OF    "AUGUSTUS   C^SAR,"   "a   TRANSLATION   OF   PLlNV's   LETTERS,"  ETC. 


G.  P.  :putnam's  £-.oks 

NEW    YORK  LONDON 

27   WEST   TWENTY-THIRD    STREET  24   BFD-OPL'    STREET,   STRAND 

1905 


Copyright,  1904 

BY 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


Published,  January,  1905 


':.  'J  ) 


dcvD.  » 


t 


UbeUnicftertocft^r  press.  Hew  Bort 


TO   MY   FATHER 


368^S9 


PREFACE 

IN  the  following  chapters,  my  object  has  been  to 
tell  the  story  of  the  Life  and  Times  of  Constan- 
tine  the  Great.  Whether  he  deserves  the  epithet 
my  readers  will  judge  for  themselves;  certainly  his 
place  in  the  select  list  of  the  immortals  is  not  among 
the  highest.  But  whether  he  himself  was  "great"  or 
not,  under  his  auspices  one  of  the  most  momentous 
changes  in  the  history  of  the  world  was  accom- 
plished, and  it  is  the  first  conversion  of  a  Roman 
Emperor  to  Christianity,  with  all  that  such  conver- 
sion entailed,  which  makes  his  period  so  important 
and  so  well  worth  studying. 

I  have  tried  to  write  with  impartiality — a  virtue 
which  one  admires  the  more  after  a  close  reading  of 
original  authorities  who,  practically  without  excep- 
tion, were  bitter  and  malevolent  partisans.!  The"' 
truth,  therefore,  is  not  always  easily  recognised,  nor 
has  recognition  been  made  the  easier  by  the  polemi- 
cal writers  of  succeeding  centuries  who  have  dealt 
with  that  side  of  Constantine's  career  which  belongs 
more  particularly  to  ecclesiastical  history.  In  nar- 
rating the  course  of  the  Arian  Controversy  and  the 
proceedings  of  the  Council  of  Nicaea  I  have  been 
content  to  record  facts — as  I  have  seen  them — and 


vi  Preface 

to  explain  the  causes  of  quarrel  rather  than  act  as 
,  judge  between  the  disputants.  And  though  in  this 
branch  of  my  subject  I  have  consulted  all  the  origi- 
nal authorities  who  describe  the  growth  of  the  con- 
troversy, I  have  not  deemed  it  necessary  to  read, 
still  less  to  add  to,  the  endless  strife  of  words  to 
which  the  discussion  of  the  theological  and  meta- 
physical issues  involved  has  given  rise.  On  this 
point  I  am  greatly  indebted  to,  and  have  made  liberal 
use  of,  the  admirable  chapters  in  the  late  Canon 
Bright 's  The  Age  of  the  Fathers. 

Other  authorities,  which  have  been  most  useful 
to  me,  are  Boissier's  La  Fin  dii  Paganismc,  Allard's 
La  Persecution  de  DiocUtien  et  le  Triomphe  de  V Eglise, 
'Dxxrxxy' s  Histoire  Romaine,  and  Grosvenor's  Constan- 
tinople. 

J.  B.  Firth. 

London,  October,  1904. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I, 

PAGE 

THE  EMPIRE  UNDER  DIOCLETIAN       ....  I 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  PERSECUTION  OF  THE  CHURCH  ...  12 

^-^'''  CHAPTER  III. 

THE    ABDICATION    OF    DIOCLETIAN    AND    THE    SUC- 
CESSION OF  CONSTANTINE  •  •  •  •  39 

CHAPTER  IV. 
CONSTANTINE  AND  HIS  COLLEAGUES  ...         56 

CHAPTER  V. 
THE  INVASION  OF  ITALY 73 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    VISION     OF     THE    CROSS     AND     THE     EDICT     OF 

MILAN      ........  92 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  DOWNFALL  OF  LICINIUS II5 

vii 


vili  Contents 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

PAGE 

LAST  DAYS  OF  PERSECUTION I34 

CHAPTER  IX. 

CONSTANTINE  AND  THE  DONATISTS  .  .  .        159 

CHAPTER  X. 

THE  ARIAN  CONTROVERSY 189 

CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  COUNCIL  OF  NIC^A 211 

CHAPTER  XII. 
THE  MURDERS  OF  CRISPUS  AND  FAUSTA   ,  .  .        237 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
THE  FOUNDATION  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE    .  .  .       257 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
ARIUS  AND  ATHANASIUS  .  .  .  .         '    .       28$ 

CHAPTER  XV. 
CONSTANTINE'S  DEATH  AND  CHARACTER  .  .       3OI 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
THE  EMPIRE  AND  CHRISTIANITY           .             .             .  33O 

INDEX 357 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGK 

CONSTANTINE    THE    GREAT       .  .  FrOHtispieCC 

From  the  British  Museum  Print  Room. 

BUST    OF    DIOCLETIAN 22 

CONSTANTINE    THE    GREAT 40 

From  Grosvenor's  Constantinople. 

THE    GOLDEN    GATE    OF    DIOCLETIAN'S    PALACE    AT 

SALONA    (SPALATO) 60 

BUST    OF    MAXIMIAN    AT    ROME  ....  62 

Photograph  by  Alinari. 

FRAGMENT    OF    4TH    CENTURY    EGYPTIAN    POTTERY 

BOWL        ........  70 

Showing  an  early  portrait  of  Christ,  with  busts  of 
the  Emperor  Constantine  and  the  Empress 
Fausta.     From  the  British  Museum. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  MILVIAN  BRIDGE,  BY    RAPHAEL         86 
In  the  Vatican.     Photograph  by  Alinari. 

THE    ARCH    OF    CONSTANTINE    AT   ROME  .  .  .  90 

Photograph  by  Alinari. 

CONSTANTINE's  VISION   OF  THE  CROSS,   BY    RAPHAEL         94 
In  the  Vatican.     Photograph  by  Alinari. 


Illustrations 


THE    WESTERN   SIDE   OF   A    PEDESTAL,    SHOWING  THE 
HOMAGE    OF    THE    VANQUISHED    GOTHS 
From  Grosvenor's  Constantinople. 

THE    AMPHITHEATRE    AT    ARLES        .... 
Exterior  view.     Present  day. 

THE  AMPHITHEATRE   AT   ARLES  AS  IT  APPEARED   IN 
1686 

From  an  old  print. 

STATUE     OF     CONSTANTINE     FROM     THE    PORCH     OF 
SAN    GIOVANNI    IN    LATERAN,     AT    ROME    . 

GATE    OF    ST.    ANDREW    AT    AUTUN 

"  CONSTANTINE    THE   GREAT   AND    HIS  MOTHER,   ST 
HELENA,    HOLY,   EQUAL    TO    THE    APOSTLES  " 

From  a  picture  discovered  1845,  in  an  old  church 


of  Mesembria. 
nople. 


From  Grosvenor's  Constanti 


THE    DONATION   OF   CONSTANTINE  .  .  .  , 

From  the  painting  by  Raphael  in  the  Vatican 
Photograph  by  Alinari. 

ST.   Helena's  vision  of  the  cross 

By  Paul  Veronese.     National  Gallery,    London 


126 
168 

172 

188 
212 

238 

248 

250 


CHART    OF    THE     EASTERN     SECTION    OF    MEDIEVAL 

CONSTANTINOPLE      ......       258 

From  Grosvenor's  Constantinople. 

BAPTISTERY    OF   SAN  GIOVANNI    IN    LATERAN,    ROME       262 
Photograph  by  Alinari. 

ST.    HELENA    AND    THE    CROSS  ....       268 

By  Cranach.     Lichtenstein  Gallery,  Vienna. 


Illustrations 


COLUMN    OF    CONSTANTINE   THE   GREAT  . 
From  Grosvenor's  Constantinople. 

THE    THREE    EXISTING    MONUMENTS    OF    THE    HIPPO- 
DROME    ........ 

From  Grosvenor's  Constantinople. 

PLAN    OF    THE    HIPPODROME 

From  Grosvenor's  Constantinople. 

THE    SERPENT    OF    DELPHI  ..... 

From  Grosvenor's  Constantinople. 

ST.    ATHANASIUS     ....... 

From  the  British  Museum  Print  Room. 

BASILICA    OF    CONSTANTINE    AT    ROME       . 

From  Rome  of  To- Day  and  Yesterday,   by  John 
Dennie. 

THE    SUPPOSED    SARCOPHAGI    OF   CONSTANTINE    THE 
GREAT    AND    THEODOSIUS    THE    GREAT        . 
From  Grosvenor's  Constantinople. 


XI 

PAGE 


276 
278 
280 
288 
302 

314 


LIST  OF  COINS 


COPPER    DENARIUS    OF    CONSTANTINE     THE     GREAT 
SHOWING    THE    LABARUM 


DOUBLE    SOLIDUS    OF    CONSTANTIUS    II., 
LABARUM 

DOUBLE    SOLIDUS    OF    DIOCLETIAN 

SOLIDUS   OF    MAXIMIAN   . 

AUREUS   OF  CARAUSIUS  . 

AUREUS    OF    ALLF.CTUS    . 

SOLIDUS    OF    HELENA 


WITH  THE 


324 

324 
324 
324 
332 
332 
332 


Xll 


Illustrations 


PACK 

SOLIDUS    OF    GALERIUS 332 

SOLIDUS    OF    SEVERUS    II 332 

SOLIDUS    OF    MAXIMIN    DAZA 340 

SOLIDUS   OF    LICINIUS    I. 340 

SOLIDUS   OF    LICINIUS    II. 340 

DOUBLE    SOLIDUS    OF   CONSTANTINE    THE   GREAT       .  340 

DOUBLE    SOLIDUS   OF   CONSTANTINE   THE  GREAT        .  348 

DOUBLE    SOLIDUS    OF    FAUSTA              ....  348 

DOUBLE    SOLIDUS   OF    CRISPUS              ....  348 

DOUBLE   SOLIDUS   OF   CONSTANTIUS   II.    AS   C^BSAR    .  348 


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CHAPTER    I 

THE  EMPIRE   UNDER  DIOCLETIAN 

THE  catastrophe  of  the  fall  of  Rome,  with  all 
that  its  fall  signified  to  the  fifth  century,  came 
very  near  to  accomplishment  in  the  third.  There 
was  a  long  period  when  it  seemed  as  though  nothing 
could  save  the  Empire.  Her  prestige  sank  to  the 
vanishing  point.  Her  armies  had  forgotten  what  it 
was  to  win  a  victory  over  a  foreign  enemy.  Her 
Emperors  were  worthless  and  incapable.  On  every 
side  the  frontiers  were  being  pierced  and  the  bar- 
riers were  giving  way. 

The  Franks  swept  over  Gaul  and  laid  it  waste. 
They  penetrated  into  Spain  ;  besieged  Toledo  ;  and, 
seizing  the  galleys  which  they  found  in  the  Span- 
ish ports,  boldly  crossed  into  Mauretanian  Africa. 
Other  confederations  of  free  barbarians  from  south- 
ern Germany  had  burst  through  the  wall  of  Hadrian 
which  protected  the  Tithe  Lands  {Decumates  agri), 
and  had  followed  the  ancient  route  of  invasion  over 


2  Constantine 

the  Alps.  Pannonia  had  been  ravaged  by  the  Sar- 
matae  and  the  Quadi.  In  successive  invasions  the 
Goths  had  overrun  Dacia  ;  had  poured  round  the 
Black  Sea  or  crossed  it  on  shipboard  ;  had  sacked 
Trebizond  and  Chalcedon,  and,  after  traversing  Bi- 
thynia,  had  reached  the  coast  at  Ephesus.  Others 
had  advanced  into  Greece  and  Macedonia  and  chal- 
lenged the  Roman  navies  for  the  possession  of  Crete. 

Not  only  was  Armenia  lost,  but  the  Parthians  had 
passed  the  Euphrates,  vanquished  and  taken  pris- 
oner the  Emperor  Valerian,  and  surprised  the  city  of 
Antioch  while  the  inhabitants  were  idly  gathered  in 
the  theatre.  Valerian,  chained  and  robed  in  purple, 
was  kept  alive  to  act  as  Sapor's  footstool ;  when  he 
died  his  skin  was  tanned  and  stuffed  with  straw  and 
set  to  grace  a  Parthian  temple.  Egypt  was  in  the 
hands  of  a  rebel  who  had  cut  off  the  grain  supply. 
And  as  if  such  misfortunes  were  not  enough,  there 
was  a  succession  of  terrifying  and  destructive  earth- 
quakes, which  wrought  their  worst  havoc  in  Asia, 
though  they  were  felt  in  Rome  and  Egypt.  These 
too  were  followed  by  a  pestilence  which  raged  for 
fifteen  years  and,  according  to  Eutropius,  claimed, 
when  at  its  height,  as  many  as  five  thousand  victims 
in  a  single  day. 

It  looked,  indeed,  as  though  the  Roman  Empire 
were  past  praying  for  and  its  destruction  certain.* 
The  armies  were  in  wide-spread  revolt.  Rebel  usurp- 
ers succeeded  one  another  so  fast  that  the  period 
came  to  be  known  as  that  of  the  Thirty  Tyrants, 

*  Jam  cicsperatis  rebus  et  deleto  pcejie  i?nperio  Romatio  (Eutropius, 
iv.,  c.  q). 


The  Empire  under  Diocletian         3 

many  of  whom  were  elected,  worshipped,  and  mur- 
dered by  their  soldiers  within  the  space  of  a  few  weeks 
or  months.  "You  little  know,  my  friends,"  said  Sa- 
turninus,  one  of  the  more  candid  of  these  phantom 
monarchs,  when  his  troops  a  few  years  later  insisted 
that  he  should  pit  himself  against  Aurelian,  "you 
little  know  what  a  poor  thing  it  is  to  be  an  Emperor. 
Swords  hang  over  our  necks  ;  on  every  side  is  the 
menace  of  spear  and  dart.  We  go  in  fear  of  our 
guards,  in  terror  of  our  household  troops.  We  can- 
not eat  what  we  like,  fight  when  we  would,  or  take 
up  arms  for  our  pleasure.  Moreover,  whatever  an 
Emperor's  age,  it  is  never  what  it  should  be.  Is  he 
a  grey  beard  ?  Then  he  is  past  his  prime.  Is  he 
young  ?  He  has  the  mad  recklessness  of  youth. 
You  insist  on  making  me  Emperor  ;  you  are  drag- 
ging me  to  inevitable  death.  But  I  have  at  least 
this  consolation  in  dying,  that  I  shall  not  be  able 
to  die  alone."*  In  that  celebrated  speech,  vibrat- 
ing with  bitter  irony,  we  have  the  middle  of  the 
third  century  in  epitome. 

But  then  the  usual  miracle  of  good  fortune  inter- 
vened to  save  Rome  from  herself.  The  Empire 
fell  into  the  strong  hands  of  Claudius,  who  in  two 
years  smote  the  Goths  by  land  and  sea,  and  of 
Aurelian,  who  recovered  Britain  and  Gaul,  restored 
the  northern  frontiers,  and  threw  to  the  ground  the 
kingdom  over  which  Zenobia  ruled  from  Palmyra. 
The  Empire  was  thus  restored  once  more  by  the 
genius  of  two  Pannonian  peasants,  who  had  found 

*  Nesciiis,  amici,  quid  niali  sit  imferare  (Vopiscus,  Saturninus, 
c.  10), 


4  Constantine 

in  the  army  a  career  open  to  talent.  The  murder 
of  Aurelian,  in  275,  was  followed  by  an  interreg- 
num of  seven  months,  during  which  the  army 
seemed  to  repent  of  having  slain  its  general  and 
paid  to  the  Senate  a  deference  which  effectually 
turned  the  head — never  strong — of  that  assembly. 
Vopiscus  quotes  a  letter  written  by  one  senator  to 
another  at  this  period,  begging  him  to  return  to 
Rome  and  tear  himself  away  from  the  amusements 
of  Baiae  and  Puteoli.  "  The  Senate,"  he  says,*  "  has 
returned  to  its  ancient  status.  It  is  we  who  make 
Emperors  ;  it  is  our  order  which  has  the  distribu- 
tion of  offices.  Come  back  to  the  city  and  the 
Senate  House.  Rome  is  flourishing ;  the  whole 
State  is  flourishing.  We  give  Emperors  ;  we  make 
Princes  ;  and  we  who  have  begun  to  create,  can 
also  restrain."  The  pleasant  delusion  was  soon  dis- 
pelled. The  legions  speedily  re-assumed  the  role  of 
king-makers.  Tacitus,  the  senatorial  nominee,  ruled 
only  for  a  year,  and  another  series  of  soldier  Em- 
perors succeeded.  Probus,  in  six  years  of  inces- 
sant fighting,  repeated  the  triumphs  of  Aurelian, 
and  carried  his  successful  arms  east,  west,  and  north. 
Carus,  despite  his  sixty  years,  crossed  the  Tigris 
and  made  good  —  at  any  rate  in  part  —  his  threat 
to  render  Persia  as  naked  of  trees  as  his  own  bald 
head  was  bare  of  hairs.  But  Carus's  reign  was 
brief,  and  at  his  death  the  Empire  was  divided 
between  his  two  sons,  Carinus  and  Numerian. 
The  former  was  a  voluptuary ;  the  latter,  a  youth 
of  retiring  and  scholarly  disposition,  quite  unfitted 
*  Vopiscus,  Florianus,  c.  6, 


The  Empire  under  Diocletian         5 

for  a  soldier's  life,  was  soon  slain  by  his  Praetorian 
praefect,  Arrius  Aper.  But  the  choice  of  the  army 
fell  upon  Diocletian,  and  he,  after  stabbing  to  the 
heart  the  man  who  had  cleared  his  way  to  the  throne, 
gathered  up  into  his  strong  hands  the  reins  of  power 
in  the  autumn  of  284.  He  met  in  battle  the  army 
of  Carinus  at  Margus,  in  Moesia,  during  the  spring 
of  285.  Carinus  was  slain  by  his  ofificers  and  Dio- 
cletian reigned  alone. 

But  he  soon  found  that  he  needed  a  colleague  to 
halve  with  him  the  dangers  and  the  responsibilities  of 
empire.  He,  therefore,  raised  his  lieutenant,  Max- 
imian,  to  the  purple,  with  the  title  of  Caesar,  and  a 
twelvemonth  later  gave  him  the  full  name  and 
honours  of  Augustus.  There  were  thus  two  armies, 
two  sets  of  court  ofificials,  and  two  palaces,  but  the 
edicts  ran  in  the  joint  name  of  both  Augusti.  Then, 
when  still  further  division  seemed  advisable,  the 
principle  of  imperial  partnership  was  extended,  and 
it  was  decided  that  each  Augustus  should  have  a 
Caesar  attached  to  him.  Galerius  was  promoted  to 
be  the  Caesar  of  Diocletian  ;  Constantius  to  be  the 
Caesar  of  Maximian.  Each  married  the  daughter  of 
his  patron,  and  looked  forward  to  becoming  Augus- 
tus as  soon  as  his  superior  should  die.  The  plan 
was  by  no  means  perfect,  but  there  was  much  to  be 
said  in  its  favour.  An  Emperor  like  Diocletian, 
the  nominee  of  the  eastern  army  alone  and  the  son 
of  a  Dalmatian  slave,  had  few,  if  any,  claims  upon 
the  natural  loyalty  of  his  subjects.  Himself  a  suc- 
cessful adventurer,  he  knew  that  other  adventurers 
would  rise  to  challenge  his  position,  if  they  could 


6  Constantine 

find  an  army  to  back  them.  By  entrusting  Max- 
imian  with  the  sovereignty  of  the  West,  he  forestalled 
Maximian's  almost  certain  rivalry,  and  the  four 
great  frontiers  each  required  the  presence  of  a  power- 
ful army  and  an  able  commander-in-chief.  By  hav- 
ing three  colleagues,  each  of  whom  might  hope  in 
time  to  become  the  senior  Augustus,  Diocletian 
secured  himself,  so  far  as  security  was  possible, 
against  military  rebellion. 

Unquestionably,  too,  this  decentralisation  tended 
towards  general  efficiency.  It  was  more  than  one 
man's  task,  whatever  his  capacity,  to  hold  together 
the  Empire  as  Diocletian  found  it.  Gaul  was  ablaze 
from  end  to  end  with  a  peasants'  war.  Carausius 
ruled  for  eight  years  in  Britain,  which  he  tempor- 
arily detached  from  the  Empire,  and,  secure  in  his 
naval  strength,  forced  Diocletian  and  Maximian, 
much  to  their  disgust,  to  recognise  him  as  a  brother 
Augustus.  This  archpirate,  as  they  called  him,  was 
crushed  at  last,  but  whenever  Constantius  crossed 
into  Britain  it  was  necessary  for  Maximian  to  move 
up  to  the  vacant  frontier  of  the  Rhine  and  mount 
guard  in  his  place.  We  hear,  too,  of  Maximian  fight- 
ing the  Moors  in  Mauretania.  War  was  thus  inces- 
sant in  the  West.  In  the  East,  Diocletian  recovered 
Armenia  for  Roman  influence  in  287  by  placing  his 
nominee,  Tiridates,  on  the  throne.  This  was  done 
without  a  breach  with  Parthia,  but  in  296  Tiridates 
was  expelled  and  war  ensued.  Diocletian  summoned 
Galerius  from  the  Danube  and  entrusted  him  with 
the  command.  But  Galerius  committed  the  same 
blunder  which  Crassus  had  made  three  centuries  and 


The  Empire  under  Diocletian  7 

a  half  before.  He  led  his  troops  into  the  wastes  of 
the  Mesopotamian  desert  and  suffered  the  inevitable 
disaster.  When  he  returned  with  the  survivors  of 
his  army  to  Antioch,  Diocletian,  it  is  said,  rode  forth 
to  meet  him  ;  received  him  with  cold  displeasure ; 
and,  instead  of  taking  him  up  into  his  chariot,  com- 
pelled him  to  march  alongside  on  foot,  in  spite  of 
his  purple  robe.  However,  in  the  following  year, 
297,  Galerius  faced  the  Parthian  with  a  new  army, 
took  the  longer  but  less  hazardous  route  through 
Armenia,  and  utterly  overwhelmed  the  enemy  in  a 
night  attack.  The  victory  was  so  complete  that 
Narses  sued  for  peace,  paying  for  the  boon  no  less 
a  price  than  the  whole  of  Mesopotamia  and  five  pro- 
vinces in  the  valley  of  the  Tigris,  and  renouncing 
all  claim  to  the  sovereignty  of  Armenia. 

This  was  the  greatest  victory  which  Rome  had  won 
in  the  East  since  the  campaigns  of  Trajan  and 
Vespasian.  It  was  followed  by  fifty  years  of  pro- 
found peace  ;  and  the  ancient  feud  between  Rome 
and  Parthia  was  not  renewed  until  the  closing 
days  of  the  reign  of  Constantine.  Lactantius,  of 
whose  credibility  as  a  historian  we  shall  speak 
later  on,  sneers  at  the  victory  of  Galerius,  which 
he  says  was  "  easily  won  "  *  over  an  enemy  encum- 
bered by  baggage,  and  he  represents  him  as  being 
so  elated  with  his  success  that  when  Diocletian 
addressed  him  in  a  letter  of  congratulation  by  the 
name  of  Caesar,  he  exclaimed,f  with  glowing  eyes 
and    a  voice   of    thunder,  "  How  long    shall    I    be 

*  De  Mart.  Per  sec,  c.  9:   Non  difficiliter  oppressit. 

\  Truci  vuliii  ac  voce  terribili,  Quousque  tandem  Casar  ? 


8  Constantine 

merely  Caesar?"  But  there  is  no  word  of  cor- 
roboration from  any  other  source.  On  the  contrary, 
we  can  see  that  Diocletian,  whose  forte  was  di- 
plomacy rather  than  generalship,  was  on  the  best 
of  terms  with  his  son-in-law,  Galerius,  who  regarded 
him  not  with  contempt,  but  with  the  most  pro- 
found respect.  Diocletian  and  Galerius,  for  their 
lifetime  at  any  rate,  had  settled  the  Eastern  ques- 
tion on  a  footing  entirely  satisfactory  and  honour- 
able to  Rome.  A  long  line  of  fortresses  was  estab- 
ished  on  the  new  frontier,  within  which  there  was 
perfect  security  for  trade  and  commerce,  and  the  re- 
sult was  a  rapid  recovery  from  the  havoc  caused  by 
the  Gothic  and  Parthian  irruptions. 

Though  Diocletian  had  divided  the  supreme 
power,  he  was  still,  the  moving  and  controlling 
spirit,  by  whose  nod  all  things  were  governed.*  He 
had  chosen  for  his  own  special  domain  Asia,  Syria, 
and  Egypt,  fixing  his  capital  at  Nicomedia,  which  he 
had  filled  with  stately  palaces,  temples,  and  public 
buildings,  for  he  indulged  the  dream  of  making  his 
city  the  rival  of  Rome.  Galerius  ruled  the  Danubian 
provinces  with  Greece  and  Illyricum  from  his  capital 
at  Sirmium.  Maximian,  the  Augustus  of  the  West, 
ruled  over  Italy,  Africa,  and  Spain  from  Milan; 
Constantius  watched  over  Gaul  and  Britain,  with 
headquarters  at  Treves  and  at  York.  But  every- 
where the  writ  of  Diocletian  ran.  He  took  the 
majestic  name  of  Jovius,  while  Maximian  styled 
himself  Herculius ;  and  it  stands  as  a  marvellous 
tribute  to  his  commanding  influence  that  we  hear 

*  Cujus  nutu  omnia  gubernabantur. 


The  Empire  under  Diocletian         9 

of   no    friction    between    the    four   masters   of  the 
world. 

Diocletian  profoundly  modified  the  character  of 
the  Roman  Principate.  He  orientalised  it,  adopting 
frankly  and  openly  the  symbols  and  paraphernalia 
of  royalty  which  had  been  so  repugnant  to  the 
Roman  temper.  Hitherto  the  Roman  Emperors 
had  been,  first  and  foremost,  Imperators,  heads  of 
the  army,  soldiers  in  the  purple.  Diocletian  became 
a  King,  clad  in  sumptuous  robes,  stiff  with  embroid- 
ery and  jewels.  Instead  of  approaching  with  the 
old  military  salute,  those  who  came  into  his  presence 
bent  the  knee  and  prostrated  themselves  in  adora- 
tion. The  monarch  surrounded  himself,  not  with 
mihtary  praefects,  but  with  chamberlains  and  court 
officials,  the  hierarchy  of  the  palace,  not  of  the  camp. 
We  cannot  wholly  impute  this  change  to  vanity 
or  to  that  littleness  of  mind  which  is  pleased  with 
pomp  and  elaborate  ceremonial.  Diocletian  was 
too  great  a  man  to  be  swayed  by  paltry  motives. 
It  was  rather  that  his  subjects  had  abdicated  their 
old  claim  to  be  called  a  free  and  sovereign  people, 
and  were  ready  to  be  slaves.  The  whole  senatorial 
order  had  been  debarred  by  Gallienus  from  enter- 
ing the  army,  and  had  acquiesced  without  apparent 
protest  in  an  edict  which  closed  to  its  members 
the  profession  of  arms.  Diocletian  thought  that 
his  throne  would  be  safer  by  removing  it  from  the 
ken  of  the  outside  world,  by  screening  it  from  vul- 
gar approach,  by  deepening  the  mystery  and  im- 
pressiveness  attaching  to  palaces,  by  elaborating  the 
court  ceremonial,  and  exalting  even  the  simplest  of 


lo  Constantine 

domestic  services  into  the  dignity  of  a  liturgy.  It 
may  be  that  these  changes  intensified  the  servility 
of  the  subject,  and  sapped  still  further  the  man- 
hood and  self-respect  of  the  race.  Let  it  not  be 
forgotten,  however,  that  the  ceremonial  of  the  mod- 
ern courts  of  Europe  may  be  traced  directly  back 
to  the  changes  introduced  by  Diocletian,  and  also 
that  the  ceremonial,  which  the  older  school  of 
Romans  would  have  thought  degrading  and  effem- 
inate, was,  perhaps,  calculated  to  impress  by  its 
stateliness,  beauty,  and  dignity  the  barbarous  na- 
tions which  were  supplying  the  Roman  armies  with 
troops. 

We  will  reserve  to  a  later  chapter  some  account 
of  the  remodelled  administration,  which  Constan- 
tine for  the  most  part  accepted  without  demur. 
Here  we  may  briefly  mention  the  decentralisation 
which  Diocletian  carried  out  in  the  provinces. 
Lactantius*  says  that  "  he  carved  the  provinces  up 
into  little  fragments  that  he  might  fill  the  earth 
with  terror,"  and  suggests  that  he  multiplied  offi- 
cials in  order  to  wring  more  money  out  of  his 
subjects.  That  is  an  enemy's  perversion  of  a  wise 
statesman's  plan  for  securing  efificiency  by  lessening 
the  administrative  areas,  and  bringing  them  within 
working  limits.  Diocletian  split  up  the  Empire  into 
twelve  great  dioceses.  Each  diocese  again  was  sub- 
divided into  provinces.  There  were  fifty-seven  of 
these  when  he  came  to  the  throne ;  when  he  quitted 
it  there   were   ninety-six.     The  system    had   grave 

*  Et,  ut  omnia  ter7-ore  complerentur,  provincicz  quoque  in  frusta 
concisx  [De  Mart.  Per  sec,  c.  7). 


The  Empire  under  Diocletian       n 

faults,  for  the  principles  on  which  the  finances  of  the 
Empire  rested  were  thoroughly  mischievous  and  un- 
sound. But  the  reign  of  Diocletian  was  one  of  rapid 
recuperation  and  great  prosperity,  such  as  the  Ro- 
man world  had  not  enjoyed  since  the  days  of  the 
Antonines, 


CHAPTER    II 

THE   PERSECUTION   OF   THE   CHURCH 

UNFORTUNATELY  for  the  fame  of  Diocletian 
there  is  one  indehble  blot  upon  the  record  of 
his  reign.  He  attached  his  name  to  the  edicts 
whereby  was  let  loose  upon  the  Christian  Church 
the  last  and  —  in  certain  provinces  —  the  fiercest  of 
the  persecutions.  Inasmuch  as  the  affairs  of  the 
Christian  Church  will  demand  so  large  a  share  of  our 
attention  in  dealing  with  the  religious  policy  of  Con- 
stantine,  it  will  be  well  here  to  describe,  as  briefly  as 
possible,  its  condition  in  the  reign  of  Diocletian. 
It  has  been  computed  that  towards  the  end  of  the 
third  century  the  population  of  the  Roman  Empire 
numbered  about  a  hundred  millions.  What  propor- 
tion were  Christians  ?  No  one  can  say  with  certainty, 
but  they  were  far  more  numerous  in  the  East  than 
in  the  West,  among  the  Greek-speaking  peoples 
of  Asia  than  among  the  Latin-speaking  peoples  of 
Europe.  Perhaps  if  we  reckon  them  at  a  twelfth  of 
the  whole  we  shall  rather  underestimate  than  over- 
estimate their  number,  while  in  certain  portions  of 
Asia  and  Syria  they  were  probably  at  least  one  in 
five.     Christianity  had  spread  with  amazing  rapidity 


The  Persecution  of  the  Church      13 

since  the  days  of  Domitian.  There  had  been  spas- 
modic outbreaks  of  fierce  persecution  under  Decius, 
—  "  that  execrable  beast,"  as  Lactantius  calls  him, — 
under  Valerian,  and  under  Aurelian.  But  Aurelian's 
reign  was  short  and  he  had  been  too  busy  fighting 
to  spare  much  time  for  religious  persecution.  The 
tempest  quickly  blew  over.  For  fully  half  a  cent- 
ury, with  brief  interludes  of  terror,  the  Church  had 
been  gathering  strength  and  boldness. 

The  policy  of  the  State  towards  it  was  one  of  in- 
difference. Gallienus,  indeed,  the  worthless  son  of 
Valerian,  had  issued  edicts  of  toleration,  which 
might  be  considered  cancelled  by  the  later  edicts  of 
Aurelian  or  might  not.  If  the  State  wished  to  be 
savage,  it  could  invoke  the  one  set ;  if  to  be  mild,  it 
could  invoke  the  other.  There  was,  therefore,  no 
absolute  security  for  the  Church,  but  the  general 
feeling  was  one  of  confidence.  The  army  contained 
a  large  number  of  Christians,  of  all  ranks  and  condi- 
tions, ofHcers,  centurions,  and  private  soldiers.  Many 
of  the  ofificials  of  the  civil  service  were  Christians. 
The  court  and  the  palace  were  full  of  them.  Dio- 
cletian's wife,  Prisca,  was  a  Christian  ;  so  was  Valeria, 
his  daughter.  So,  too,  were  many  of  his  chamber- 
lains, secretaries,  and  eunuchs.  If  Christianity  had 
been  a  proscribed  religion,  if  the  Christians  had  an- 
ticipated another  storm,  is  it  conceivable  that  they 
would  have  dared  to  erect  at  Nicomedia,  within  full 
view  of  the  palace  windows,  a  large  church  situated 
upon  an  eminence  in  the  centre  of  the  city,  and  evi- 
dently one  of  its  most  conspicuous  structures  ?  No, 
Christianity  in  the  East  felt  tolerably  safe  and  was 


14  Constantine 

advancing  from  strength  to  strength,  conscious  of  its 
increasing  powers  and  of  the  benevolent  neutrahty 
of  Diocletian.  Christians  who  took  office  were  re- 
lieved from  the  necessity  of  offering  incense  or  pre- 
siding at  the  games.  The  State  looked  the  other 
way  ;  the  Church  was  incHned  to  let  them  off  with 
the  infliction  of  some  nominal  penance.  Nor  was 
there  much  difficulty  about  service  in  the  army. 
Probably  few  enlisted  in  the  legions  after  they  had 
become  Christians  ;  against  this  the  Church  set  her 
face.  But  she  permitted  the  converted  soldier  to  re- 
main true  to  his  military  oath,  for  she  did  not  wish 
to  become  embroiled  with  the  State.  In  a  word, 
there  was  deep  religious  peace,  at  any  rate  in  Dio- 
cletian's special  sphere  of  influence,  Asia,  Egypt, 
and  Syria. 

It  is  to  be  remembered,  however,  that  there  were 
four  rulers,  men  of  very  different  characters  and  each, 
therefore,  certain  to  regard  Christianity  from  a  dif- 
ferent standpoint.  Thus  there  might  be  religious 
peace  in  Asia  and  persecution  in  the  West,  as,  in- 
deed, there  was  —  partial  and  spasmodic,  but  still 
persecution.  Maximian  was  cruel  and  ambitious,  an 
able  soldier  of  the  hard  Roman  type,  no  respecter  of 
persons,  and  careless  of  human  life.  Very  few  mod- 
ern historians  have  accepted  the  story  of  the  massacre 
of  the  Theban  Legion  at  Agauna,  near  Lake  Leman, 
for  refusal  to  offer  sacrifice  and  take  the  oath  to  the 
Emperor.  According  to  the  legend,  the  legion  was 
twice  decimated  and  then  cut  to  pieces.  But  it  is 
impossible  to  believe  that  there  could  have  been  a 
legion  or  even  a  company  of  troops  from  Thebes  in 


The  Persecution  of  the  Church      15 

Egypt,  wholly  composed  of  Christians,  and,  even 
supposing  the  facts  to  have  been  as  stated,  their 
refusal  to  march  in  obedience  to  the  Emperor's 
orders  and  rejoin  the  main  army  at  a  moment  when 
an  active  campaign  was  in  progress,  simply  invited 
the  stroke  of  doom.  Maximian  was  not  the  man  to 
tolerate  mutiny  in  the  face  of  the  enemy. 

But  still  there  were  many  Christian  victims  of 
Maximian  wherever  he  took  up  his  quarters  —  at 
Rome,  Aquileia,  Marseilles — mostly  soldiers  whose 
refusal  to  sacrifice  brought  down  upon  them  the 
arm  of  the  law.  Maximian  is  described  in  the 
"  Passion  of  St.  Victor"  as  "  a  great  dragon,"  but 
the  story,  even  as  told  by  the  hagiologist,  scarcely 
justifies  the  epithet.  Just  as  the  military  praefects, 
before  whom  Victor  was  first  taken,  begged  him  to 
reconsider  his  position,  so  Maximian,  after  ordering 
a  priest  to  bring  an  altar  of  Jupiter,  turned  to  Vic- 
tor and  said  *  :  "  Just  offer  a  few  grains  of  incense  ; 
placate  Jupiter  and  be  our  friend."  Victor's  answer 
was  to  dash  the  altar  to  the  ground  from  the  hands 
of  the  priest  and  place  his  foot  triumphantly  upon 
it.  We  may  admire  the  fortitude  of  the  martyr, 
but  the  martyrdom  was  self-infiicted,  and  the  anger 
of  the  Emperor  not  wholly  unwarranted.  "  Be  our 
friend,"  he  had  said,  and  his  overtures  were  spurned 
with  contempt. 

We  may  suspect,  indeed,  that  this  partial  persecu- 
tion was  due  rather  to  the  insistence  of  the  martyrs 
themselves  than  to  deliberate  policy  on  the  part  of 
Maximian.     When    enthusiastic    Christians    thrust 


*  Pone  thura:  placa  Jovetn  et  nosier  amicus  esto. 


1 6  Constantine 

their  Christianity  upon  the  official  notice  of  the  au- 
thorities, insulted  the  Emperor  or  the  gods,  and  re- 
fused to  take  the  oath  or  sacrifice  on  ceremonial 
occasions,  then  martyrdom  was  the  result,  and  little 
notice  was  taken,  for  life  was  cheap.  Diocletian,  as  we 
have  seen,  rather  patronised  than  persecuted  Christ- 
ianity. Maximian's  inclinations  towards  cruelty 
were  kept  in  check  by  the  known  wishes  of  his  senior 
colleague.  Constantius,  the  Caesar  of  Gaul,  was  one 
of  those  refined  characters,  tolerant  and  sympathetic 
by  nature,  to  whom  the  idea  of  persecution  for  the 
sake  of  religion  was  intensely  repugnant ;  and  Gal- 
erius,  the  Caesar  of  Pannonia,  the  most  fanatical 
pagan  of  the  group,  was  not  likely,  at  any  rate  dur- 
ing the  first  few  years  after  his  elevation,  to  run 
counter  to  the  wishes  of  his  patron. 

What  was  it,  then,  that  wrought  the  fatal  change 
in  the  mind  of  Diocletian  and  turned  him  from 
benevolent  neutrality  to  fierce  antagonism  ?  Lac- 
tantius  attributes  it  solely  to  the  baleful  influence 
of  Galerius,  whom  he  paints  in  the  very  blackest 
colours.  He  was  a  wild  beast,  a  savage  barbarian 
of  alien  blood,  tall  in  stature,  a  mountain  of  flesh, 
abnormally  bloated,  terrifying  to  look  at,  and  with 
a  voice  that  made  men  shiver.*  Behind  this  mon- 
ster stood  his  mother,  a  barbarian  woman  from  be- 
yond the  Danube,  priestess  of  some  wild  deity  of 
the  mountains,  imbued  with  a  fanatical  hatred  of 
the  Christians,  which  she  was  for  ever  instilling  into 
her  son.  When  we  have  stripped  away  the  obvious 
exaggeration  of  this  onslaught  we  may  still  accept 

*  De  Mart.  Per  sec,  c.  9. 


The  Persecution  of  the  Church       1 7 

the  main  statement  and  admit  that  Galerius  was 
the  most  active  and  unsparing  enemy  of  the  Christ- 
ians in  the  Imperial  circle.  This  rough  soldier, 
trained  in  the  school  of  two  such  martinets  as  Au- 
relian  and  Probus,  who  enforced  military  discipline 
by  the  most  pitiless  methods,  would  not  stay  to 
reason  with  a  soldier's  religious  prejudices.  Un- 
hesitating obedience  or  death  —  that  was  the  only 
choice  he  gave  to  those  who  served  under  him,  and 
when,  after  his  great  victory  over  the  Parthians, 
his  position  and  prestige  in  the  East  were  beyond 
challenge,  we  find  Christian  martyrdoms  in  the  track 
of  his  armies,  in  the  Anti-Taurus,  in  Coele-Syria,  in 
Samosata. 

Galerius  began  to  purge  his  army  of  Christians. 
Unless  they  would  sacrifice,  officers  were  to  lose 
their  rank  and  private  soldiers  to  be  dismissed  ig- 
nominiously  without  the  privileges  of  long  service. 
Several  were  put  to  death  in  Moesia,  where  a  cer- 
tain Maximus  was  Governor.  Among  them  was  a 
veteran  named  Julius,  who  had  served  in  the  legion 
for  twenty-six  years,  and  fought  in  seven  campaigns, 
without  a  single  black  mark  having  been  entered 
against  his  name  for  any  military  offence.  Maxi- 
mus did  his  best  to  get  him  off.  "  Julius,"  he  said, 
"  I  see  that  you  are  a  man  of  sense  and  wisdom. 
Suffer  yourself  to  be  persuaded  and  sacrifice  to  the 
gods."  "  I  will  not,"  was  the  reply,  "  do  what  you 
ask.  I  will  not  incur  by  an  act  of  sin  eternal  punish- 
ment." "  But,"  said  the  Governor,  "  I  take  the  sin 
upon  myself.  I  will  use  compulsion  so  that  you  may 
not  seem  to  act  voluntarily.     Then  you  will  be  able 


1 8  Constantine 

to  return  in  peace  to  your  house.  You  will  receive 
the  bounty  of  ten  denarii  and  no  one  will  molest 
you."  Evidently,  Maximus  was  heartily  sorry  that 
such  a  fine  old  soldier  should  take  up  a  posi- 
tion which  seemed  to  him  so  grotesquely  indefen- 
sible. But  what  was  Julius's  reply?  "Neither  this 
Devil's  money  nor  your  specious  words  shall  cause 
me  to  lose  eternal  God.  I  cannot  deny  Him.  Con- 
demn me  as  a  Christian."  After  the  interrogation 
had  gone  on  for  some  time,  Maximus  said  :  "  I  pity 
you,  and  I  beg  you  to  sacrifice,  so  that  you  may 
live  with  us."  "  To  live  with  you  would  be  death 
for  me,"  rejoined  Julius,  "  but  if  I  die,  I  shall  live." 
"  Listen  to  me  and  sacrifice  ;  if  not,  I  shall  have  to 
keep  my  word  and  order  you  to  death."  "  I  have 
often  prayed  that  I  might  merit  such  an  end." 
"  Then  you  have  chosen  to  die  ?  "  "I  have  chosen  a 
temporary  death,  but  an  eternal  life."  Maximus 
then  passed  sentence,  and  the  law  took  its  course. 

On  another  occasion  the  Governor  said  to  two 
Christians,  named  Nicander  and  Marcian,  who  had 
proved  themselves  equally  resolute,  "  It  is  not  I 
whom  you  resist ;  it  is  not  I  who  persecute  you. 
My  hands  are  unstained  by  your  blood.  If  you 
know  that  you  will  fare  well  on  your  journey,  I  con- 
gratulate you.*  Let  your  desire  be  accomplished." 
"  Peace  be  with  you,  merciful  judge,"  cried  both  the 
martyrs  as  the  sentence  was  pronounced. 

The  movement  seems  gradually  to  have  spread 
from  the  provinces  of  Galerius  to  those  of  Max- 
imian.     At  Tangiers,  Marcellus,  a  centurion  of  the 

*  Si  autem  scitis  vos  bene  ituros,  gratulor  vobis. 


The  Persecution  of  the  Church       19 

Legion  of  Trajan,  threw  down  his  centurion's  staff 
and  belt  and  refused  to  serve  any  longer.  He  did 
so  in  the  face  of  the  whole  army  assembled  to  sac- 
rifice in  honour  of  Maximian's  birthday.  A  similar 
scene  took  place  in  Spain  at  Calahorra,  near  Tar- 
raco,  where  two  soldiers  cast  off  their  arms  exclaim- 
ing, "  We  are  called  to  serve  in  the  shining  company 
of  angels.  There  Christ  commands  His  cohorts, 
clothed  in  white,  and  from  his  lofty  throne  con- 
demns your  infamous  gods,  and  you,  who  are  the 
creatures  of  these  gods,  or,  we  should  say,  these 
ridiculous  monsters."  Death  followed  as  a  matter 
of  course.  Looking  at  the  evidence  with  absolute 
impartiality,  one  begins  to  suspect  that  the  process 
of  clearing  the  Christians  out  of  the  army  was  due 
quite  as  much  to  the  fanaticism  of  certain  Christian 
soldiers  eager  for  martyrdom,  as  to  any  lust  for  blood 
on  the  part  even  of  Galerius  and  Maximian. 

But  what  we  have  to  account  for  is  the  rise  of  a 
fierce  anti-Christian  spirit  which  induced  Diocletian 
—  for  even  Lactantius  admits  that  he  was  not  easily 
persuaded  —  to  take  active  measures  against  the 
Christians.  It  is  certainly  noteworthy  that  about 
this  time  the  only  school  of  philosophy  which  was 
alive,  active,  and  at  all  original,  was  definitely  anti- 
Christian.  We  refer,  of  course,  to  the  Neo-Platon- 
ists  of  Alexandria.  Their  principal  exponent  was 
the  philosopher  Porphyry,  who  carried  on  a  violent 
anti-Christian  propaganda,  though  he  seems  to  have 
borrowed  from  Christianity,  and  more  especially 
from  the  rigorously  ascetic  form  which  Christianity 
had  assumed  in  Egypt,  many  of  his  leading  tenets. 


20  Constantine 

The  morality  which  Porphyry  inculcated  was  ele- 
vated and  pure ;  his  religion  was  mystical  to  such  a 
degree  that  none  but  an  expert  philosopher  could 
follow  him  into  the  refinements  of  his  abstractions  ; 
but  he  had  for  the  Christian  Church  a  "  theological 
hatred  "  of  extraordinary  bitterness.  The  treatise 
—  in  fifteen  books — in  which  he  assailed  the  Div- 
inity of  Christ  apparently  set  a  fashion  in  anti- 
Christian  literature.  We  hear,  for  example,  of 
another  unnamed  philosopher  who  "  vomited  three 
books  against  the  Christian  religion,"  and  the  vio- 
lence with  which  Lactantius  denounces  him  as  "  an 
accomplished  hypocrite  "  makes  one  suspect  that 
his  work  had  a  considerable  success.  Still  better 
known  was  Hierocles,  Governor  at  one  time  of 
Palmyra,  and  then  transferred  to  the  royal  province 
of  Bithynia,  who  wrote  a  book  to  which  he  gave 
the  name  of  The  Friend  of  Truth,  and  addressed 
it,  "  To  the  Christians."  Its  interest  lies  chiefly  in 
the  fact  that  its  author  compares  with  the  miracles 
wrought  by  Christ  those  attributed  to  Apollonius 
of  Tyana,  and  denies  divinity  to  both.  Lactantius 
tells  us  that  this  Hierocles  was  "  author  and  coun- 
sellor of  the  persecution,"*  and  we  may  judge, 
therefore,  that  there  existed  among  the  pagans  a 
powerful  party  bitterly  opposed  to  Christianity, 
carrying  on  a  vigorous  campaign  against  it,  and 
urging  upon  the  Emperors  the  advisability  of  a 
sharp  repressive  policy. 

They  would  have  no  difficulty  in  making  out  a 
case  against  the  Christians  which  on  the  face  of  it 


'■  De  Mort.  Per  sec,  c,  i6. 


The  Persecution  of  the  Church      21 

seemed  plausible  and  overwhelming.  They  would 
point  to  the  fanatical  spirit  manifested,  as  we  have 
seen,  by  a  large  number  of  Christian  soldiers  in  the 
army,  which  led  them  to  throw  down  their  arms, 
blaspheme  the  gods,  and  deny  the  Emperors.  They 
would  point  to  the  anti-social  movement,  which  was 
especially  marked  in  Egypt,  where  the  example  of 
St.  Antony  was  drawing  crowds  of  men  and  women 
away  into  the  desert  to  live  out  their  lives,  either  in 
solitary  cells  as  hermits,  or  as  members  of  religious 
communities  equally  ascetic,  and  almost  equally  soli- 
tary. They  would  point  to  the  aloofness  even  of  the 
ordinary  Christian  in  city  or  in  town  from  its  common 
life,  and  to  his  avoidance  of  office  and  public  duties. 
They  would  point  to  the  extraordinary  closeness  of 
the  ties  which  bound  Christians  together,  to  their 
elaborate  organisation,  to  the  implicit  and  ready 
obedience  they  paid  to  their  bishops,  and  would  ask 
whether  so  powerful  a  secret  society,  with  ramifica- 
tions everywhere  throughout  the  Empire,  was  not 
inevitably  a  menace  to  the  established  authorities, 
The  Christians  were  peaceable  enough.  To  accuse 
them  of  plotting  rebellion  was  hardly  possible, 
though  the  most  outrageous  calumnies  against  them 
and  their  rites  were  sedulously  fostered  in  order  to 
inflame  the  minds  of  the  rabble,  just  as  they  were 
against  the  Jews  in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  are,  even  at 
the  present  day,  in  certain  parts  of  the  Continent  of 
Europe.  But,  at  bottom,  the  real  strength  of  the 
case  against  the  Christians  lay  in  the  fact  that  the  more 
enlightened  pagans  saw  that  Christianity  was  the 
solvent   which   was   bound   to  loosen  all  that  held 


2  2  Constantine 

pagan  society  together.  They  instinctively  felt 
what  was  coming,  and  were  sensible  of  approaching 
doom.  Christianity  was  the  enemy,  the  proclaimed 
enemy,  of  their  religion,  of  their  point  of  view  of  this 
life  as  well  as  of  the  next,  of  their  customs,  of  their 
pleasures,  of  their  arts.  Paganism  was  fighting  for 
existence.  What  wonder  that  it  snatched  at  any 
weapon  wherewith  to  strike  ? 

The  personal  attitude  of  Diocletian  towards  re- 
ligion in  general  is  best  seen  in  the  edict  which  he 
issued  against  the  Manichaeans.  The  date  is  some- 
what uncertain,  but  it  undoubtedly  preceded  the 
anti-Christian  edicts.  Manichaeanism  took  its  rise 
in  Persia,  its  principal  characteristic  being  the  prac- 
tice of  thaumaturgy,  and  it  spread  fast  throughout 
the  East.  Diocletian  ordered  the  chiefs  of  the  sect 
to  be  burned  to  death  ;  their  followers  were  to  have 
their  goods  confiscated  and  to  suffer  capital  punish- 
ment unless  they  recanted  ;  while  persons  of  rank 
who  had  disgraced  themselves  by  joining  such  a 
shameful  and  infamous  set  of  men  were  to  lose  their 
patrimony  and  be  sent  to  the  mines.  These  were 
savage  enactments,  and  it  is  important  to  see  how 
the  Emperor  justified  them.  Fortunately  his  lan- 
guage is  most  explicit.  "  The  gods,"  he  says,  "  have 
determined  what  is  just  and  true;  the  wisest  of 
mankind,  by  counsel  and  by  deed,  have  proved  and 
firmly  established  their  principles.  It  is  not,  there- 
fore, lawful  to  oppose  their  divine  and  human  wis- 
dom, or  to  pretend  that  a  new  religion  can  correct 
the  old  one.  To  wish  to  change  the  institutions  of 
our  ancestors  is  the  greatest  of  crimes."     Nothing 


BUST  OF  DIOCLETIAN. 


The  Persecution  of  the  Church      23 

could  be  clearer.  It  is  the  old  official  defence  of  the 
State  religion,  that  men  are  not  wiser  than  their 
fathers,  and  that  innovation  in  worship  is  likely  to 
bring  down  the  wrath  of  the  gods.  Moreover,  as 
the  edict  points  out,  this  Manichaeanism  came  from 
Persia,  the  traditional  enemy  of  Rome,  and  threat- 
ened to  corrupt  the  "  modest  and  tranquil  Roman 
people  "  with  the  detestable  manners  and  infamous 
laws  of  the  Orient.  "  Modest  and  tranquil  "  are  not 
the  epithets  which  posterity  has  chosen  to  apply  to 
the  Roman  people  of  the  Empire,  but  Diocletian's 
point  is  obvious.  Manichaeanism  was  a  device  of 
the  enemy  ;  it  must  be  poison,  therefore,  to  the  good 
Roman.  Such  an  argument  was  born  of  prejudice 
rather  than  of  reason  ;  we  shall  see  it  applied  yet 
again  to  the  Christians,  and  applied  even  by  the 
Christian  Church  to  its  own  schismatics  and  heretics. 
It  was  during  the  winter  of  302  that  the  question 
was  carefully  debated  by  Diocletian  and  Galerius — 
the  latter  was  staying  with  the  senior  Augustus 
at  Nicomedia — whether  it  was  advisable  to  take 
repressive  measures  against  the  Christians.  Accord- 
ing to  Lactantius,  Galerius  clamoured  for  blood, 
while  Diocletian  represented  how  mischievous  it 
would  be  to  throw  the  whole  world  into  a  ferment, 
and  how  the  Christians  were  wont  to  welcome  mar- 
tyrdom. He  argued,  therefore,  that  it  would  be  quite 
enough  if  they  purged  the  court  and  the  army. 
Then,  as  neither  would  give  way,  a  Council  was 
called,  which  sided  with  Galerius  rather  than  with 
Diocletian,  and  it  was  decided  to  consult  the  oracle 
of  Apollo  at  Miletus.     Apollo  returned  the  strange 


24  Constantine 

answer  that  there  were  just  men  on  the  earth  who 
prevented  him  from  speaking  the  truth,  and  gave 
that  as  the  reason  why  the  oracles  which  proceeded 
from  his  tripods  were  false.  The  "just  men  "  were, 
of  course,  the  Christians.  Diocletian  yielded,  only 
stipulating  that  there  should  be  no  bloodshed,  while 
Galerius  was  for  burning  all  Christians  alive.  Such 
is  Lactantius's  story,  and  it  does  credit  to  Diocletian, 
inasmuch  as  it  shews  his  profound  reluctance  to  dis- 
turb the  internal  peace  which  his  own  wise  policy 
had  established.  As  a  propitious  day,  the  Festival 
of  the  Terminalia,  February  23,  303,  was  chosen  for 
the  inauguration  of  the  anti-Christian  campaign. 
The  church  at  Nicomedia  was  levelled  to  the  ground 
by  the  Imperial  troops  and,  on  the  following  day,  an 
edict  was  issued  depriving  Christians  of  their  priv- 
ileges as  full  Roman  citizens.  They  were  to  be  de- 
prived of  all  their  honours  and  distinctions,  whatever 
their  rank  ;  they  were  to  be  liable  to  torture  ;  they 
were  to  be  penalised  in  the  courts  by  not  being 
allowed  to  prosecute  for  assault,  adultery,  and  theft. 
Lactantius  well  says  *  that  they  were  to  lose  their 
liberty  and  their  right  of  speech.  The  penalties  ex- 
tended even  to  slaves.  If  a  Christian  slave  refused 
to  renounce  his  religion  he  was  never  to  receive  his 
freedom.  The  churches,  moreover,  were  to  be  de- 
stroyed and  Christians  were  forbidden  to  meet  to- 
gether. No  bloodshed  was  threatened,  as  Diocletian 
had  stipulated,  but  the  Christian  was  reduced  to  the 
condition  of  a  pariah.      The  edict  was  no  sooner 

*  Liber  tatem  denique  ac  vocem  non  haberent  {De  Mort.  Per  sec, 
c.  13). 


The  Persecution  of  the  Church      25 

posted  up  than,  with  a  bitter  jibe  at  the  Emperors, 
some  bold,  indignant  Christian  tore  it  down.  He 
was  immediately  arrested,  tortured,  racked,  and 
burnt  at  the  stake.  Diocletian  had  been  right. 
The  Christians  made  willing  martyrs. 

Soon  afterwards  there  was  an  outbreak  of  fire  at 
the  palace.  Lactantius  accuses  Galerius  of  having 
contrived  it  himself  so  that  he  might  throw  the 
odium  upon  the  Christians,  and  he  adds  that  Gal- 
erius so  worked  upon  the  fears  of  Diocletian  that 
he  gave  leave  to  every  ofifiicial  in  the  palace  to  use 
the  rack  in  the  hope  of  getting  at  the  truth.  No- 
thing was  discovered,  but  fifteen  days  later  there 
was  another  mysterious  outbreak.  Galerius,  pro- 
testing that  he  would  stay  no  longer  to  be  burnt 
alive,  quitted  the  palace  at  once,  though  it  was  bad 
weather  for  travelling.  Then,  says  Lactantius,  Dio- 
cletian allowed  his  blind  terrors  to  get  the  better  of 
him,  and  the  persecution  began  in  earnest.  He 
forced  his  wife  and  daughter  to  recant ;  he  purged 
the  palace,  and  put  to  death  some  of  his  most  pow- 
erful eunuchs,  while  the  Bishop  of  Nicomedia  was 
beheaded,  and  crowds  of  less  distinguished  victims 
were  thrown  into  prison.  Whether  there  was  in- 
cendiarism or  not,  no  one  can  say.  Eusebius,  in- 
deed, tells  us  that  Constantine,  who  was  living  in  the 
palace  at  the  time,  declared  years  afterwards  to  the 
bishops  at  the  Council  of  Nicaea  that  he  had  seen 
with  his  own  eyes  the  lightning  descend  and  set  fire 
to  the  abode  of  the  godless  Emperor.  But  neither 
Constantine  nor  Eusebius  was  to  be  believed  im- 
plicitly when  it  was  a  question  of  some  supernatural 


26  Constantine 

occurrence  between  earth  and  heaven.  The  double 
conflagration  is  certainly  suspicious,  but  tyrants 
do  not,  as  a  rule,  set  fire  to  their  own  palaces  when 
they  themselves  are  in  residence,  however  strong 
may  be  their  animus  against  some  obnoxious  party 
in  the  State. 

A  few  months  passed  and  Diocletian  published  a 
second  edict  ordering  the  arrest  of  all  bishops  and 
clergy  who  refused  to  surrender  their  "  holy  books" 
to  the  civil  officers.  Then,  in  the  following  year, 
came  a  third,  offering  freedom  to  all  in  prison  if  they 
consented  to  sacrifice,  and  instructing  magistrates  to 
use  every  possible  means  to  compel  the  obstinate 
to  abandon  their  faith.  These  edicts  provoked  a 
frenzy  of  persecution,  and  Gaul  and  Britain  alone 
enjoyed  comparative  immunity.  Constantius  could 
not,  indeed,  entirely  disregard  an  order  which  bore 
the  joint  names  of  the  two  Augusti,  but  he  took 
care  that  there  was  no  over-zealousness,  and,  ac- 
cording to  a  well-known  passage  of  Lactantius,  he 
allowed  the  meeting-places  of  the  Christians,  the 
buildings  of  wood  and  stone  which  could  easily  be 
restored,  to  be  torn  down,  but  preserved  in  safety 
the  true  temple  of  God,  viz.,  the  bodies  of  His 
worshippers.*  Elsewhere  the  persecution  may  be 
traced  from  province  to  province  and  from  city  to 
city  in  the  mournful  and  poignant  documents  known 
as  the  Passions  of  the  Martyrs.  Naturally  it  varied 
in  intensity  according  to  local  conditions  and  accord- 
ing to  the  personal  predilections  of  the  magistrates. 

*  Verum  autefu  Dei  templum,  quod  est  in  hominibus,  incolume 
servavit.  (  De  Mort.  Per  sec.  c.  15). 


The  Persecution  of  the  Church      27 

Where  the  populace  was  fiercely  anti-Christian  or 
where  the  pagan  priests  were  zealous,  there  the 
Christians  suffered  severely.  Their  churches  would 
be  razed  to  the  ground  and  the  prisons  would  be 
full.  Some  of  the  weaker  brethren  would  recant; 
others  would  hide  themselves  or  quit  the  district ; 
others  again  would  suffer  martyrdom.  In  more  for- 
tunate districts,  where  public  opinion  was  with  the 
Christians,  the  churches  might  not  be  destroyed, 
though  they  stood  empty  and  silent. 

The  fiercest  persecution  seems  to  have  taken 
place  in  Asia  Minor.  There  had  been  a  partial  re- 
volt of  the  troops  at  Antioch,  easily  suppressed  by 
the  Antiochenes  themselves,  but  Diocletian  appar- 
ently connected  it  in  some  way  with  the  Christians 
and  let  his  hand  fall  heavily  upon  them.  Just  at 
this  time,  moreover,  in  the  neighbouring  kingdom  of 
Armenia,  Saint  Gregory  the  Illuminator  was  preach- 
ing the  gospel  with  marvellous  success,  and  the 
Christians  of  Cappadocia,  just  over  the  border,  paid 
the  penalty  for  the  uneasiness  which  this  ferment 
caused  to  their  rulers.  We  hear,  for  example,  in 
Phrygia  of  a  whole  Christian  community  being 
extirpated.  Magistrates,  senators,  and  people — • 
Christians  all — had  taken  refuge  in  their  principal 
church,  to  which  the  troops  set  fire.  Eusebius,  in 
his  History  of  the  Church,  paints  a  lamentable 
picture  of  the  persecution  which  he  himself  witnessed 
in  Palestine  and  Syria,  and,  \n\\\s  Life  of  Const  ant  ine, 
he  says  *  that  even  the  barbarians  across  the 
frontier  were  so  touched  by  the  sufferings   of   the 

*  Vita  Const.,  ii.,  53. 


28  Constantine 

Christian  fugitives  that  they  gave  them  shelter. 
Athanasius,  too,  declares  that  he  often  heard  sur- 
vivors of  the  persecution  say  that  many  pagans 
risked  the  loss  of  their  goods  and  the  chance  of 
imprisonment  in  order  to  hide  Christians  from  the 
ofificers  of  the  law.  There  is  no  question  of  ex- 
aggeration. The  most  horrible  tortures  were  in- 
vented ;  the  most  barbarous  and  degrading  pun- 
ishments were  devised.  The  victim  who  was  simply 
ordered  to  be  decapitated  or  drowned  was  highly 
favoured.  In  a  very  large  number  of  cases  death 
was  delayed  as  long  as  possible.  The  sufferer,  after 
being  tortured  on  the  rack,  or  having  eyes  or  tongue 
torn  out,  or  foot  or  hand  struck  off,  was  taken  back 
to  prison  to  recover  for  a  second  examination. 

Even  when  the  victim  was  dead  the  law  frequent- 
ly pursued  the  corpse  with  its  futile  vengeance.  It 
was  no  uncommon  thing  for  a  body  to  be  thrown  to 
the  dogs,  or  to  be  chopped  into  fragments  and  cast 
into  the  sea,  or  to  be  burnt  and  the  ashes  flung  upon 
running  water.  He  was  counted  a  merciful  judge 
who  allowed  the  friends  of  the  martyr  to  bear  away 
the  body  to  decent  burial  and  lay  it  in  the  grave. 
At  Augsburg,  when  the  magistrate  heard  that  the 
mother  and  three  servants  of  a  converted  courtesan, 
named  Afra,  had  placed  her  body  in  a  tomb,  he 
ordered  all  four  to  be  enclosed  in  one  grave  with 
the  corpse  and  burnt  alive. 

It  is,  of  course,  quite  impossible  to  compute  the 
number  of  the  victims,  but  it  was  unquestionably 
very  large.  We  do  not,  perhaps,  hear  of  as  many 
bishops  and  priests  being  put  to   death  as   might 


The  Persecution  of  the  Church      29 

have  been  expected,  but  if  the  extreme  rigour  of 
the  law  had  been  enforced  the  Empire  would  have 
been  turned  into  a  shambles.  The  fact  is,  as  we 
have  said,  that  very  much  depended  upon  the  per- 
sonal character  of  the  Governors  and  the  local  magis- 
trates. In  some  places  altars  were  put  up  in  the 
law  courts  and  no  one  was  allowed  either  to  bring 
or  defend  a  suit  without  offering  sacrifice.  In  other 
towns  they  were  erected  in  the  market  squares  and 
by  the  side  of  the  public  fountains,  so  that  one  could 
neither  buy  nor  sell,  nor  even  draw  water,  without 
being  challenged  to  do  homage  to  the  gods.  Some 
Governors,  such  as  Datianus  in  Spain,  Theotecnus 
in  Galatia,  Urbanus  of  Palestine,  and  Hierocles  of 
Bithynia  and  Egypt,  were  noted  for  the  ferocity  with 
which  they  carried  out  the  edicts;  others  —  and, 
when  the  evidence  is  carefully  examined,  the  hu- 
mane judges  seem  to  have  formed  the  majority  — 
presided  with  reluctance  at  these  lamentable  trials. 
Many  exhausted  every  means  in  their  power  to  con- 
vert the  prisoners  back  to  the  old  religion,  partly 
from  motives  of  humanity,  and  partly,  no  doubt, 
because  their  success  in  this  respect  gained  them 
the  notice  and  favour  of  their  superiors. 

We  hear  of  magistrates  who  ordered  the  attend- 
ants of  the  court  to  place  by  force  a  few  grains  of 
incense  in  the  hands  of  the  prisoner  and  make  him 
sprinkle  it  upon  the  altar,  or  to  thrust  into  his 
mouth  a  portion  of  the  sacrificial  meat.  The  victim 
would  protest  against  his  involuntary  defilement, 
but  the  magistrate  would  declare  that  the  offering 
had  been  made.     Often,  the  judge  sought  to  bribe 


30  Constantine 

the  accused  into  apostasy.  "  If  you  obey  the  Gov- 
ernor," St.  Victor  of  Galatia  was  told,  "you  shall 
have  the  title  of  'Friend  of  Caesar'  and  a  post  in 
the  palace."  Theotecnus  promised  Theodotus  of 
Ancyra  "the  favour  of  the  Emperors,  the  highest 
municipal  dignities,  and  the  priesthood  of  Apollo." 
The  bribe  was  great,  but  it  was  withstood.  The 
steadfast  confessor  gloried  in  replying  to  every  fresh 
taunt,  entreaty,  or  bribe,  "I  am  a  Christian."  It 
was  to  him  the  only,  as  well  as  the  highest  argument. 
Sometimes  the  kindest-hearted  judges  were  driven 
to  exasperation  by  their  total  inability  to  make  the 
slightest  impression  upon  the  Christians.  "  Do 
abandon  your  foolish  boasting,"  said  Maximus,  the 
Governor  of  Cilicia,  to  Andronicus,  "  and  listen  to 
me  as  you  would  listen  to  your  father.  Those  who 
have  played  the  madman  before  you  have  gained 
nothing  by  it.  Pay  honour  to  our  Princes  and  our 
fathers  and  submit  yourself  to  the  gods,"  "  You 
do  well,"  came  the  reply,  "  to  call  them  your  fathers, 
for  you  are  the  sons  of  Satan,  the  sons  of  the  Devil, 
whose  works  you  perform."  A  few  more  remarks 
passed  between  judge  and  prisoner  and  then  Max- 
imus lost  his  temper.  "  I  will  make  you  die  by 
inches,"  he  exclaimed.  "  I  despise,"  retorted  An- 
dronicus, "  your  threats  and  your  menaces."  While 
an  old  man  of  sixty-five  was  being  led  to  the  tor- 
ture, a  friendly  centurion  said  to  him,  "  Have  pity 
on  yourself  and  sacrifice."  "  Get  thee  from  me, 
minister  of  Satan,"  was  the  reply.  The  main  feel- 
ing uppermost  in  the  mind  of  the  confessor  was  one 
of   exultation  that  he  had  been   found   worthy  to 


The  Persecution  of  the  Church      31 

suffer.     Such  a  spirit    could    neither   be   bent   nor 
broken. 

Of  active  disloyalty  to  the  Emperor  there  is  abso- 
lutely no  trace.  Many  Christian  soldiers  boasted  of 
their  long  and  honourable  service  in  the  army ;  civil- 
ians were  willing  to  pay  unto  Caesar  the  things  that 
were  Caesar's.  But  Christ  was  their  King.  "  There 
is  but  one  God,"  cried  Alphseus  and  Zachaeus  at 
Caesarea,  "and  only  one  King  and  Lord,  who  is 
Jesus  Christ."  To  the  pagan  judge  this  was  not 
merely  blasphemy  against  the  gods,  but  treason 
against  the  Emperor.  Sometimes,  but  not  often, 
the  martyr's  feelings  got  the  better  of  him  and  he 
cursed  the  Emperor.  "  May  you  be  punished,"  cried 
the  dauntless  Andronicus  to  Maximus,  when  the 
officers  of  the  court  had  thrust  between  his  lips  the 
bread  and  meat  of  sacrifice,  "may  you  be  punished, 
bloody  tyrant,  you  and  they  who  have  given  you  the 
power  to  defile  me  with  your  impious  sacrifices. 
One  day  you  will  know  what  you  have  done  to  the 
servants  of  God."  "  Accursed  scoundrel,"  said  the 
judge,  "dare  you  curse  the  Emperors  who  have 
given  the  world  such  long  and  profound  peace  ?" 
"  I  have  cursed  them  and  I  will  curse  them,"  replied 
Andronicus,  "  these  public  scourges,  these  drinkers 
of  blood,  who  have  turned  the  world  upside  down. 
May  the  immortal  hand  of  God  tolerate  them  no 
longer  and  punish  their  cruel  amusements,  that  they 
may  learn  and  know  the  evil  they  have  done  to 
God's  servants."  No  doubt,  most  Christians  agreed 
with  the  sentiments  expressed  by  Andronicus,  but 
they   rarely   gave   expression    to    them.     "  I   have 


32  Constantine 

obeyed  the  Emperors  all  the  years  of  my  life,"  said 
Bishop  Philippus  of  Heraclea,  "  and,  when  their  com- 
mands are  just,  I  hasten  to  obey.  For  the  Holy 
Scripture  has  ordered  me  to  render  to  God  what  is 
due  to  God  and  to  Caesar  what  is  due  to  Caesar.  I 
have  kept  this  commandment  without  flaw  down  to 
the  present  time,  and  it  only  remains  for  me  to  give 
preference  to  the  things  of  heaven  over  the  attrac- 
tions of  this  world.  Remember  what  I  have  already 
said  several  times,  that  I  am  a  Christian  and  that  I 
refuse  to  sacrifice  to  your  gods."  Nothing  could  be 
more  dignified  or  explicit.  It  is  the  Emperor-God 
and  his  fellow  deities  of  Olympus,  not  the  Emperor, 
to  whom  the  Christian  refuses  homage.  During  a 
trial  at  Catania  in  Sicily  the  judge,  Calvisianus,  said 
to  a  Christian,  "  Unhappy  man,  adore  the  gods, 
render  homage  to  Mars,  Apollo,  and  ^sculapius." 
The  answer  came  without  a  second's  hesitation  :  "  I 
adore  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost — the  Holy 
Trinity — beyond  whom  there  is  no  God.  Perish  the 
gods  who  have  not  made  heaven  and  earth  and  all 
that  they  contain.  I  am  a  Christian."  From  first  to 
last,  in  Spain  as  in  Africa,  in  Italy  as  in  Sicily,  this  is 
the  alpha  and  the  omega  of  the  Christian  position, 
"  Christianiis  sum.'" 

To  what  extent  was  the  martyrdom  self-infiicted  ? 
How  far  did  the  Christians  pile  with  their  own  hands 
the  faggots  round  the  stakes  to  which  they  were 
tied?  It  is  significant  that  some  churches  found  it 
necessary  to  condemn  the  extraordinary  exaltation 
of  spirit  which  drove  men  and  women  to  force  them- 
selves upon  the  notice  of   the  authorities  and   led 


The  Persecution  of  the  Church      33 

them  to  regard  flight  from  danger  as  culpable  wake- 
ness.  They  not  only  did  not  encourage  but  strictly 
forbade  the  overthrowing  of  pagan  statues  or  altars 
by  zealous  Christians  anxious  to  testify  to  their 
faith.  They  did  not  wish,  that  is  to  say,  to  provoke 
certain  reprisals.  Yet,  in  spite  of  all  their  efforts, 
martyrdom  was  constantly  courted  by  rash  and  ex- 
citable natures  in  the  frenzy  of  religious  fanaticism, 
hke  that  which  impelled  Theodorus  of  Amasia  in 
Pontus  to  set  fire  to  a  temple  of  Cybele  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  city  and  then  boast  openly  of  the  deed. 
Often,  however,  such  martyrs  were  mere  children. 
Such  was  Eulalia  of  Merida,  a  girl  of  twelve,  whose 
parents,  suspecting  her  intention,  had  taken  her 
into  the  country  to  be  out  of  harm's  way.  She  es- 
caped their  vigilance,  returned  to  the  city,  and, 
standing  before  the  tribunal  of  the  judge,  proclaimed 
herself  a  Christian. 

"  Mane  superba  tribunal  adit, 
Fascibus  adstat  et  in  mediis. " 

The  judge,  instead  of  bidding  the  ofificials  remove 
the  child,  began  to  argue  with  her,  and  the  argu- 
ment ended  in  Eulalia  spitting  in  his  face  and  over- 
turning the  statue  which  had  been  brought  for  her 
to  worship.  Then  came  torture  and  the  stake,  a 
martyred  saint,  and  in  later  centuries  a  stately 
church,  flower  festivals,  and  a  charming  poem  from 
the  Christian  poet,  Prudentius.  But  even  his  grace- 
ful verses  do  not  reconcile  us  to  the  pitiful  futility  of 
such  child-martyrdom  as  that  of  Eulalia  of  Merida 
or  Asrnes  of  Rome. 


34  Constantine 

Or  take,  again,  the  pathetic  inscription  found  at 
Testur,  in  Northern  Africa  ; 

'''' Sane  tee.  Ti-es  ; 
Maxi7Jia, 
Donatilla 
Et  Secunda, 
Bona  Puella" 

These  were  three  martyrs  of  Thuburbo.  Two  of 
them,  Maxima  and  Donatilla,  had  been  denounced 
to  the  judge  by  another  woman,  Secunda,  a  child 
of  twelve,  saw  her  friends  from  a  window  in  her 
father's  house,  as  they  were  being  dragged  off  to 
prison.  "Do  not  abandon  me,  my  sisters,"  she 
cried.  They  tried  to  wave  her  back.  She  insisted. 
They  warned  her  of  the  cruel  fate  which  was  certain 
to  await  her;  Secunda  declared  her  confidence  in 
Him  who  comforts  and  consoles  the  little  ones.  In 
the  end  they  let  her  accompany  them.  All  three 
were  sentenced  to  be  torn  by  the  wild  beasts  of  the 
amphitheatre,  but  when  they  stood  up  to  face  that 
cruel  death,  a  wild  bear  came  and  lay  at  their  feet. 
The  judge,  Anulinus,  then  ordered  them  to  be 
decapitated.  Such  is  the  story  that  lies  behind 
those  simple  and  touching  words,  ''Secunda,  Bona 
Puellay 

Nor  were  young  men  backward  in  their  zeal  for 
the  martyr's  crown.  Eusebius  tells  us  of  a  band  of 
eight  Christian  youths  at  Caesarea,  who  confronted 
the  Governor,  Urbanus,  in  a  body  shouting,  "  We  are 
Christians,"  and  of  another  youth  named  Aphianus, 
who,  while  reading  the  Scriptures,  heard  the  voice 


The  Persecution  of  the  Church      35 

of  the  heralds  summoning  the  people  to  sacrifice. 
He  at  once  made  his  way  to  the  Governor's  house, 
and,  just  as  Urbanus  was  in  the  act  of  offering  liba- 
tion, Aphianus  caught  his  arm  and  upbraided  him 
for  his  idolatry.     He  simply  flung  his  life  away. 

In  this  connection  may  be  mentioned  the  five 
martyred  statuary  workers  belonging  to  a  Pannonian 
marble  quarry.  They  had  been  converted  by  the 
exhortations  of  Bishop  Cyril,  of  Antioch,  who  had 
been  condemned  to  labour  in  their  quarry,  and,  once 
having  become  Christians,  their  calling  gave  them 
great  searching  of  heart.  Did  not  the  Scriptures 
forbid  them  to  make  idols  or  graven  images  of  false 
gods?  When,  therefore,  they  refused  to  undertake 
a  statue  of  ^sculapius,  they  were  challenged 
as  Christians,  and  sentenced  to  death.  Yet  they 
had  not  thought  it  wrong  to  carve  figures  of  Victory 
and  Cupid,  and  they  seem  to  have  executed  without 
scruple  a  marble  group  showing  the  sun  in  a  chariot, 
doubtless  satisfying  themselves  that  these  were 
merely  decorative  pieces,  which  did  not  necessarily 
involve  the  idea  of  worship.  But  they  preferred  to 
die  rather  than  make  a  god  for  a  temple,  even 
though  that  god  were  the  gentle  ^sculapius,  the 
Healer. 

We  might  dwell  at  much  greater  length  upon  this 
absorbing  subject  of  the  persecution  of  Diocletian, 
and  draw  upon  the  Passions  of  the  Saints  for  further 
examples  of  the  marvellous  fortitude  with  which  so 
many  of  the  Christians  endured  the  most  fiendish 
tortures  for  the  sake  of  their  faith.  "  I  only  ask  one 
favour,"  said  the  intrepid  Asterius:  "it  is  that  you 


36  Constantine 

will  not  leave  unlacerated  a  single  part  of  my  body." 
In  the  presence  of  such  splendid  fidelity  and  such 
unswerving  faith,  which  made  even  the  weakest 
strong  and  able  to  endure,  one  sees  why  the  eventual 
triumph  of  the  Church  was  certain  and  assured. 
One  can  also  understand  why  the  memory  and  the 
relics  of  the  martyrs  were  preserved  with  such  pas- 
sionate devotion  ;  why  their  graves  were  considered 
holy  and  credited  with  powers  of  healing ;  and  why, 
too,  the  names  of  their  persecutors  were  remembered 
with  such  furious  hatred.  It  may  be  too  much  to 
expect  the  early  chroniclers  of  the  Church  to  be  fair 
to  those  who  framed  and  those  who  put  into  execu- 
tion the  edicts  of  persecution,  but  we,  at  least,  after 
so  many  centuries,  and  after  so  many  persecutions 
framed  and  directed  by  the  Churches  themselves, 
must  try  to  look  at  the  question  from  both  sides  and 
take  note  of  the  absolute  refusal  of  the  Christian 
Church  to  consent  to  the  slightest  compromise  in  its 
attitude  of  hostility  to  the  religious  system  which  it 
had  already  dangerously  undermined. 

It  is  not  easy  from  a  study  of  the  Passions  of  the 
Saints  to  draw  any  sweeping  generalisations  as  to 
what  the  public  at  large  thought  of  the  torture  and 
execution  of  Christians.  We  get  a  glimpse,  indeed, 
of  the  ferocity  of  the  populace  at  Rome  when  Max- 
imian  went  thither  to  celebrate  the  Ludi  Cereales  in 
304.  The  "  Passion  of  St.  Savinus  "  shews  an  excited 
crowd  gathered  in  the  Circus  Maximus,  roaring  for 
blood  and  repeating  twelve  times  over  the  savage 
cry,  "  Away  with  the  Christians  and  our  happiness  is 
complete.    By  the  head  of  Augustus  let  not  a  Christ- 


The  Persecution  of  the  Church      il 

ian  survive."  *  Then,  when  they  caught  sight  of 
Hermogenianus,  the  city  praefect,  they  called  ten 
times  over  to  the  Emperor,  "  May  you  conquer, 
Augustus !  Ask  the  prsefect  what  it  is  we  are 
shouting."  Such  a  scene  was  natural  enough  in  the 
Circus  of  Rome;  was  it  typical  of  the  Empire? 
Doubtless  in  all  the  great  cities,  such  as  Alexandria, 
Antioch,  Ephesus,  Carthage,  the  "  baser  sort  "  would 
be  quite  ready  to  shout,  "  Away  with  the  Christians." 
But  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  we  find  no  trace  any- 
where in  this  persecution  of  a  massacre  on  the  scale 
of  that  of  St.  Bartholomew  or  the  Sicilian  Vespers. 
On  the  contrary,  we  see  that  though  the  prisons 
were  full,  the  relations  of  the  Christians  were  usually 
allowed  to  visit  them,  take  them  food,  and  listen  to 
their  exhortations.  Pamphilus  of  Caesarea,  who  was 
in  jail  for  two  years,  not  only  received  his  friends 
during  that  period,  but  was  able  to  go  on  making 
copies  of  the  Scriptures  ! 

We  rarely  hear  of  the  courts  being  packed  with 
anti-Christian  crowds,  or  of  the  judges  being  incited 
by  popular  clamour  to  pass  the  death  sentence.  The 
reports  of  the  trials  shew  us  silent,  orderly  courts, 
with  the  judges  anxious  not  so  much  to  condemn  to 
death  as  to  make  a  convert.  If  Diocletian  had 
wanted  blood  he  could  have  had  it  in  rivers,  not  in 
streams.  But  he  did  not.  He  wished  to  eradicate 
what  he  believed  to  be  an  impious,  mischievous,  and, 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  State's  security,  a 
dangerous  superstition.     There  was  no  talk  of  per- 

*  Christiani  tollaiitur  et  voluptas  constat;  Per  caput  Augnsti  Chris- 
tiani  nott  sint. 


38 


Constantine 


secuting  for  the  sake  of  saving  the  souls  of  heretics; 
that  lamentable  theory  was  reserved  for  a  later  day. 
Diocletian  persecuted  for  what  he  considered  to  be 
the  good  of  the  State.  He  lived  to  witness  the  full 
extent  of  his  failure,  and  to  realise  the  appalling 
crime  which  he  had  committed  against  humanity, 
amid  the  general  overthrow  of  the  political  system 
which  he  had  so  laboriously  set  up. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   ABDICATION    OF    DIOCLETIAN    AND   THE    SUC- 
CESSION  OF   CONSTANTINE 

ON  the  1st  of  May,  in  the  year  305,  Diocletian, 
by  an  act  of  unexampled  abnegation,  re- 
signed the  purple  and  retired  into  private  life.  The 
renunciation  was  publicly  performed,  not  in  Rome, 
for  Rome  had  ceased  to  be  the  centre  of  the  politi- 
cal world,  but  on  a  broad  plain  in  Bithynia,  three 
miles  from  Nicomedia,  which  long  had  been  the 
Emperor's  favourite  residence.  In  the  centre  of  the 
plain  rose  a  little  hill,  upon  which  stood  a  column 
surmounted  by  a  statue  of  Jupiter.  There,  years 
before,  Diocletian  had  with  his  own  hands  invested 
Galerius  with  the  symbols  of  power ;  there  he  was 
now  to  perform  the  last  act  of  a  ruler  by  nominating 
those  whom  he  thought  most  fit  to  succeed  him. 
A  large  platform  had  been  constructed  ;  the  soldiers 
of  the  legions  had  been  ordered  to  assemble  in  sol- 
dier's meeting  and  listen  to  their  chief's  farewell. 
Diocletian  took  leave  of  them  in  few  words.  He 
was  old,  he  said,  and  infirm.  He  craved  for  rest 
after  a  life  of  toil.     The   Empire  needed  stronger 

39 


40  Constantine 

and  more  youthful  hands  than  his.     His  work  was 
done.     It  was  time  for  him  to  go. 

The  two  August!  were  laying  down  their  powers 
simultaneously,  for  Maximian  was  performing  a  simi- 
lar act  of  renunciation  at  Milan.  The  two  Caesars,  • 
Constantius  and  Galerius,  would  thus  automatically 
move  up  into  the  empty  places  and  become  August! 
in  their  stead.  It  had  been  necessary,  therefore,  to 
select  two  new  Caesars,  and  these  Diocletian  was 
about  to  present  to  the  loyalty  of  the  legions.  We 
are  told  that  the  secret  had  been  well  kept,  and 
that  the  soldiers  waited  with  suppressed  excitement 
until  Diocletian  suddenly  announced  that  his  choice 
had  fallen  upon  Severus,  one  of  his  trusted  generals, 
and  upon  Maximin  Daza,  a  nephew  of  Galerius. 
Severus  had  already  been  sent  to  Milan  to  be  in- 
vested by  Maximian  ;  Maximin  was  present  on  the 
tribunal  and  was  then  and  there  robed  in  the  purple. 
The  ceremony  over,  Diocletian  —  a  private  citizen 
once  more,  though  he  still  retained  the  title  of  Au- 
gustus—  drove  back  to  Nicomedia  and  at  once  set 
out  for  Salona,  on  the  Adriatic,  where  he  had  built 
a  sumptuous  palace  for  his  retirement. 

The  scene  which  we  have  depicted  is  described 
most  fully  and  most  graphically  by  a  historian  whose 
testimony,  unfortunately,  is  entirely  suspect  in  mat- 
ters of  detail.  The  author  of  The  Deaths  of  the 
Persecutors  —  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  Lactan- 
tius,  to  whom  the  work  has  long  been  attributed, 
really  wrote  it,  but  for  the  sake  of  convenience  of 
reference  we  may  credit  him  with  it  —  is  at  once 
the  most  untrustworthy  and  the  most  vigorous  and 


CONSTANTINE  THE  GREAT- 
FROM    GROSVENOR'3    "  CONSTANTINOPLE.' 


The  Abdication  of  Diocletian        41 

attractive  writer  of  the  period.  His  object  through- 
out is  to  blacken  the  characters  of  the  Emperors 
who  persecuted  the  Christian  Church,  and  he  does 
not  scruple  to  distort  their  actions,  pervert  their 
motives,  and  even  invent,  with  well  calculated  malice, 
stories  to  their  discredit.  Lactantius  knows,  or  pre- 
tends to  know,  all  that  takes  place  even  in  the  most 
secret  recesses  of  the  palace;  he  recounts  all  that 
passes  at  the  most  confidential  conferences;  and 
with  consummate  artistry  he  throws  in  circumstan- 
tial details  and  touches  of  local  colour  which  give  an 
appearance  of  truth,  but  are  really  the  most  convinc- 
ing proofs  of  falsehood.  Lactantius  represents  the 
abdication  of  Diocletian  as  the  act  of  an  old  man, 
shattered  in  health,  and  even  in  mind,  by  a  distress- 
ing malady  sent  by  Heaven  as  the  just  punishment 
of  his  crimes.  He  depicts  him  cowering  in  tears  be- 
fore the  impatient  insolence  of  Galerius,  nowperemp- 
torily  clamouring  for  the  succession  with  threats  of 
civil  war.  They  discuss  who  shall  be  the  new  Cae- 
sars. "Whom  shall  we  appoint  ?  "  asks  Diocletian. 
"  Severus,"  says  Galerius.  "  What  ?  "  says  the  other, 
"  that  drunken  sot  of  a  dancer  who  turns  night  into 
day  and  day  into  night?"  "  He  is  worthy,"  replies 
Galerius,  "  for  he  has  proved  a  faithful  general, 
and  I  have  sent  him  to  Maximian  to  be  invested." 
"  Well,  well,"  says  the  old  man,  "  who  is  the  second 
choice?"  "He  is  here,"  says  Galerius,  indicating 
his  nephew,  a  young  semi-barbarian  named  Maximin 
Daza.  "  Why,  who  is  this  you  offer  me?"  "  He  is 
my  kinsman,"  is  the  reply.  Then  said  Diocletian, 
with  a  groan,  "  These  are  not  fit  men  to  whom  to 


42  Constantine 

entrust  the  care  of  the  State."  "  I  have  proved 
them,"  said  Galerius.  "  Well,  you  must  look  to 
it,"  rejoins  Diocletian,  "you  who  are  about  to  as- 
sume the  reins  of  the  Empire.  I  have  toiled  enough. 
While  I  ruled,  I  took  care  that  the  State  stood 
safe.  If  any  harm  now  befalls,  the  fault  is  not 
mine."  * 

Such  is  a  characteristic  specimen  of  Lactantius's 
history,  and  so,  when  he  comes  to  describe  the  cere- 
mony of  abdication,  he  makes  Galerius  draw  Max- 
imin  Daza  to  the  front  of  the  group  of  imperial 
ofificials  by  whom  Diocletian  is  surrounded,  and  re- 
presents the  soldiers  as  staring  in  surprise  at  their 
new  Caesar,  as  at  one  whom  they  had  never  seen 
before.  Yet  a  favourite  nephew  of  Galerius  can 
scarcely  have  been  a  stranger  to  the  troops  of  Nico- 
media.  Galerius  not  only — according  to  Lactantius 
— drew  forward  Maximin  Daza,  but  at  the  same  time 
rudely  thrust  back  into  the  throng  the  son  of  Con- 
stantius,  the  senior  of  the  two  new  Augusti.  This 
was  young  Constantine,  the  future  Emperor,  who 
for  some  years  past  had  been  living  at  the  Court  of 
Diocletian. 

But  it  was  no  broken  down  Emperor  in  his  dotage, 
passing,  according  to  the  spasms  of  his  malady, 
from  sanity  to  insanity,  who  resigned  the  throne 
on  the  plain  of  Nicomedia.  Diocletian  was  but 
fifty-nine  years  of  age.  He  had  just  recovered,  it 
is  true,  from  a  very  severe  illness,  which,  even  on 
the  testimony  of  Lactantius,  had  caused  "grief  in 
the  palace,  sadness  and  tears  among  his  guards,  and 

*  Lactant.,  De  Mort.  Per  sec,  c.  18. 


The  Abdication  of  Diocletian        43 

anxious  suspense  throughout  the  whole  State."  *  But 
his  brain  was  never  clearer  than  when  he  took  final 
leave  of  his  troops.  His  abdication  was  the  culmin- 
ating point  of  his  policy.  He  had  planned  it  twenty- 
years  before.  He  had  kept  it  before  his  eyes  through- 
out a  long  and  busy  reign.  It  was  the  completion 
of,  the  finishing  touch  to  his  great  political  system. 
It  would  have  been  perfectly  easy  for  Diocletian 
to  forswear  himself.  Probably  very  few  of  his  con- 
temporaries believed  that  he  would  fulfil  his  promise 
to  abdicate  after  twenty  years  of  reign.  Kings  talk 
of  the  allurements  of  retirement,  but  they  usually 
cling  to  power  as  tenaciously  as  to  life.  The  first 
Augustus  had  delighted  to  mystify  his  Ministers  of 
State  by  speaking  of  restoring  the  Republic.  He 
died  an  Emperor.  Diocletian,  alone  of  the  Roman 
Emperors,  laid  down  the  sceptre  when  he  was  at  the 
height  of  his  glory.  It_was  .a  hazardous  experiment, 
but  he  was  faithful  to  his  principles.  He  thought  it 
best  for  the  worldJtHat  its  master  should  not  grow 
old  and  feeble  on  the  throne. 

Constantine,  of  whom  we  have  just  caught  a 
glimpse  at  the  abdication  of  Diocletian,  was  born 
either  in  273  or  274.  The  uncertainty  attaching  to 
the  year  of  his  birth  attaches  even  more  to  its  place. 
No  one  now  believes  that  he  was  born  in  Britain — 
a  pleasing  fiction  which  was  invented  by  English 
monks,  who  delighted  to  represent  his  mother 
Helena  as  the  daughter  of  a  British  King,  though 
they  were  quite  at  a  loss  where  to  locate  his  king- 
dom.    The  only  foundation  for  this  was  a  passage 

*  De  Mori.  Per  sec,  c.  17. 


44  Constantine 

in  one  of  the  Panegyrists,  who  said  that  Constan- 
tine had  bestowed  lustre  upon  Britain  "  illic  ori- 
tcndoy  But  the  words  are  now  taken  as  referring  to 
his  accession  and  not  to  his  birth.  He  was  certainly 
proclaimed  Emperor  in  Britain,  and  might  thus  be 
said  to  have  "sprung  thence."  Constantine's  birth- 
place seems  to  have  been  either  Naissus,  a  city  in 
Upper  Moesia,  or  Drepanum,  a  city  near  Nicomedia. 
The  balance  of  evidence,  though  none  of  it  is  very 
trustworthy,  inclines  to  the  former. 

His  father  was  Constantius  Chlorus,  afterwards 
Caesar  and  Augustus,  but  at  the  time  of  Constan- 
tine's birth  merely  a  promising  officer  in  the  Roman 
army.  Constantius  belonged  to  one  of  the  leading 
families  of  Moesia  and  his  mother  was  a  niece  of 
the  capable  and  soldierly  Claudius,  the  conqueror  of 
the  Goths.  Claudius  had  only  been  dead  four  years 
when  Constantine  was  born,  and  we  may  suppose 
that  it  was  his  influence  which  had  set  Constantius 
in  the  way  of  rapid  promotion.  He  had  formed  one 
of  those  secondary  marriages  which  were  recognised 
by  Roman  law,  when  the  wife  was  not  of  the  same 
social  standing  as  the  husband.  Helena  is  said  to 
have  been  the  daughter  of  an  innkeeper  of  Drepanum, 
and  Constantine's  enemies  lost  no  opportunity  of 
dwelling  upon  the  obscurity  of  his  ancestry  upon  his 
mother's  side.  But  that  he  was  born  in  wedlock  is  be- 
yond question.  Had  the  relationship  between  Con- 
stantius and  Helena  been  an  irregular  one,  there  would 
have  been  no  need  for  Maximian  to  insist  on  a  divorce 
when  he  ratified  Constantius's  elevation  to  the  purple 
by  giving  him  the  hand  of  his  daughter,  Theodora. 


The  Succession  of  Constantine      45 

Of  Constantine's  early  years  we  know  nothing, 
though  we  may  suppose  that  they  were  spent  in  the 
eastern  half  of  the  Empire.  Constantius  served  with 
the  eastern  legions  in  the  campaigns  wlvich  preceded 
the  accession  of  Diocletian  in  284/and  it  is  as  a 
young  officer  in  the  entourage  of  that  Emperor  that 
Constantine  makes  his  earliest  appearance  in  history. 
Eusebius  tells  us  *  that  he  first  saw  the  future 
champion  of  Christianity  in  the  train  of  Diocletian 
during  one  of  the  latter's  visits  to  Palestine.  He 
recalls  his  vivid  remembrance  of  the  young  Prince 
standing  at  the  Emperor's  right  hand  and  attracting 
the  gaze  of  all  beholders  by  the  beauty  of  his  person 
and  the  imposing  air  which  betokened  his  con- 
sciousness of  having  been  born  to  rule.  Eusebius 
adds  that  while  Constantine's  physical  strength 
extorted  the  respectful  admiration  of  his  younger 
associates,  his  remarkable  qualities  of  prudence  and 
wisdom  aroused  the  jealousy  and  excited  the  appre- 
hensions of  his  chiefs.  However,  the  recollections 
of  the  Bishop  of  Caesarea,  with  half  a  century  of 
interval,  are  somewhat  suspect,  and  we  need  see  no 
more  than  a  high-spirted,  handsome,  and  keen-witted 
Prince  in  Eusebius's  "  paragon  of  bodily  strength, 
physical  beauty,  and  mental  distinction."  As  for 
Diocletian's  jealous  fears,  they  are  best  refuted  by 
the  fact  that  Constantine  was  promoted  to  be  a 
tribune  of  the  first  rank  and  saw  considerable  military 
service.  The  foolish  stories  that  his  superiors  set 
him  to  fight  a  gigantic  Sarmatian  in  single  combat, 
and  dared  him   to    contend  against  ferocious  wild 

*De  Vita  Const. A.,  IQ- 


46  Constantine 

beasts,  in  the  hope  that  his  pride  and  courage  might 
be  his  undoing,  may  be  dismissed  as  childish.  If 
Diocletian  had  feared  Constantine,  Constantine 
would  never  have  survived  his  residence  in  the 
palace. 

It  is  certainly  remarkable  that  we  should  know  so 
little,  not  only  of  the  youth  but  of  the  early  man- 
hood of  Constantine,  who  was  at  least  in  his  thirty-, 
first  year  when  Diocletian  retired  into  private  life. 
Why  had  he  spent  all  those  years  in  the  East  in- 
stead of  sharing  with  his  father  the  dangers  and 
glories  of  his  Gallic  and  British  campaigns  ?  The 
answer  is  doubtless  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that  it 
was  no  part  of  Diocletian's  system  for  the  son 
to  succeed  the  father.  Constantius's  loyalty  was 
never  in  doubt,  but  Constantine,  if  Zosimus  *  can 
be  trusted,  had  already  given  evidence  of  consuming 
ambition  to  rule.  However  that  may  be,  it  is 
obvious  that  his  position  became  much  more  haz- 
ardous when  Galerius  succeeded  Diocletian  _  as 
supreme  ruler  in  the  palace  of  Nicomedia.  One 
can  understand  Galerius  wondering  whether  the 
capable  young  Prince,  who  slept  under  his  roof, 
was  destined  to  cross  his  path,  and  the  anxiety 
of  Constantius,  conscious  of  declining  strength,  that 
his  long-absent  son  should  join  him.  Constantine 
himself  might  well  be  uneasy,  and  scheme  to  quit 
a  place  where  he  could  not  hope'  to  satisfy  his 
natural  ambitions.  We  need  not  doubt,  therefore, 
that  Constantius  repeatedly  sent  messages  to  Gale- 

*  Zosimus,  ii.,  8.  itEfti(pavr)<i  yap  rjv  rjSr}  TtoXkofi  b  Hare^cav 
dvrov  epooi  ziji  /3cx6tA.sta?. 


The  Succession  of  Constantine      47 

rius  asking  that  his  son  might  come  to  him,  or  that 
the  son  was  eager  to  comply. 

Lactantius,  *  who  does  his  best  to  make  history 
romantic  and  exciting,  describes  the  eventual  escape 
of  Constantine  in  one  of  his  most  graphic  chapters. 
He  shows  us  Galerius  in  his  palace  reluctantly 
signing  an  order  which  authorised  Constantine  to 
travel  post  across  the  Continent  of  Europe.  He 
only  consented  to  do  so,  we  are  told,  because  he 
could  find  no  pretext  for  further  delay,  and  he  gave 
the  order  to  Constantine  late  in  the  afternoon,  on 
the  understanding  that  he  should  see  him  again 
in  the  morning  to  receive  his  final  instructions. 
Yet  all  the  time,  says  Lactantius,  Galerius  was 
scheming  to  find  some  excuse  for  keeping  him  in 
Nicomedia,  or  contemplated  sending  a  message  to 
Severus,  asking  him  to  delay  Constantine  when  he 
reached  the  border  of  northern  Italy.  Galerius  then 
took  dinner,  retired  for  the  night,  and  slept  so  well 
and  deliberately  that  he  did  not  wake  until  the 
following  midday  (Ciivi  consiilto  ad  niediiiin  diem 
usque  dormisset).  He  then  sent  for  Constantine  to 
come  to  his  apartment.  But  Constantine  was 
already  gone,  scouring  the  roads  as  fast  as  the  post 
horses  could  carry  him,  and  so  anxious  to  increase 
the  distance  between  himself  and  Galerius  that  he 
caused  the  tired  beasts  to  be  hamstrung  at  every 
stage.  He  had  waited  for  Galerius  to  retire  and 
had  then  slipped  away,  lest  the  Emperor  should 
change  his  mind.  Galerius  was  furious  when  he 
found    that   he   had  been    outwitted.     He  ordered 


*  De  Mart.  Per  sec,  c.  24, 


48  Constantine 

pursuit.  His  servants  came  back  to  tell  him  that 
the  fugitive  had  swept  the  stables  clear  of  horses. 
And  then  Galerius  could  scarce  restrain  his  tears 
(Vix  lacrimas  teiiebat). 

It  is  a  story  which  does  infinite  credit  to  Lactan- 
tius's  feeling  for  strong  melodramatic  situation.  No 
picturesque  detail  is  omitted — the  setting  sun,  the 
tyrant  plotting  vengeance  over  dinner,  his  resolve  to 
sleep  long,  his  baffled  triumph,  the  escaping  hero, 
and  the  butchery  of  the  horses.  Yet  we  question 
if  there  is  more  than  a  shred  of  truth  in  the  whole 
story.  Galerius  would  not  have  given  Constantine 
the  sealed  order  overnight  had  he  intended  to  take 
it  back  the  next  morning.  A  word  to  the  officer  of 
the  watch  in  the  palace  and  to  the  officer  on  duty  at 
the  city  gate  would  have  prevented  Constantine 
from  quitting  Nicomedia.  The  imperial  post  service 
must  have  been  very  much  underhorsed  if  the  Em- 
peror's servants  could  not  find  mounts  for  the  effec- 
tive pursuit  of  a  single  fugitive.  Galerius  may  very 
well  have  been  unwilling  for  Constantine  to  go,  and 
Constantine  doubtless  covered  the  early  stages  of 
his  long  journey  at  express  speed,  in  order  to  min- 
imise the  chance  of  recall,  but  the  lurid  details  of 
Lactantius  are  probably  simply  the  outcome  of  his 
own  lively  imagination. 

Constantine  seems  to  have  found  his  father  at  the 
port  of  Gessoriacum  (Boulogne),  just  waiting  for  a 
favourable  wind  to  carry  him  across  the  Channel 
into  Britain.  Constantius  was  ill,  and  welcomed 
with  great  joy  the  son  whom  he  had  not  seen  for 
many  years.     We  do  not  know  what  time  elapsed 


The  Succession  of  Constantine      49 

before  Constantius  died  at  York,— apparently  it  was 
after  the  conclusion  of  a  campaign  in  Scotland, — but 
before  he  died  he  commended  to  Constantine  the 
welfare  of  his  young  half-brothers  and  half-sisters, 
the  eldest  of  whom  was  no  more  than  thirteen  years 
of  age,  and  he  also  evidently  commended  Constan- 
tine himself  to  the  loyalty  of  his  legions.  The 
Emperor,  we  are  informed  both  by  Lactantius  and 
by  the  author  of  the  Seventh  Panegyric,  died  with  a 
mind  at  rest  because  he  was  sure  of  his  heir  and  suc- 
cessor—  Jupiter  himself,  says  the  pagan  orator,* 
stretched  out  his  right  hand  and  welcomed  him 
among  the  gods.  Clearly,  the  ground  had  been 
well  prepared,  for  no  sooner  was  the  breath  out  of 
Constantius's  body  than  the  troops  saluted  Constan- 
tine with  the  title  of  Augustus.  Aurelius  Victor 
adds  the  interesting  detail  that  he  had  no  stouter 
supporter  than  Erocus,  a  Germanic  King,  who  was 
serving  as  an  auxiliary  in  the  Roman  army.  Con- 
stantine was  nothing  loth,  though,  as  usual  in  such 
circumstances,  he  may  have  feigned  a  reluctance 
which  he  did  not  feel.  His  panegyrist,  indeed, 
represents  him  as  putting  spurs  to  his  horse  to 
enable  him  to  shake  off  the  robe  which  the  soldiers 
sought  to  throw  over  his  shoulders,  and  suggests 
that  it  had  been  Constantine's  intention  to  write  "  to 
the  senior  Princes"  and  consult  their  wishes  as  to 
the  choice  of  a  successor.  Had  he  done  so,  he  knew 
very  well  that  Galerius  would  have  sent  over  to  Britain 
some  trusted  lieutenant  of  his  own  to  take  command 
and    Constantine  would  have  received  peremptory 


Pan.   Vet,,  vii.,  7. 
4 


50  Constantine 

orders  to  return.  Instead  of  that,  Constantine 
assumed  the  insignia  of  an  Emperor,  and  wrote  to 
Galerius  announcing  his  elevation.  Galerius,  it  is 
said,  hesitated  long  as  to  the  course  he  should 
adopt.  That  the  news  angered  him  we  may  be  sure. 
Apart  from  all  personal  considerations,  this  choice 
of  an  Emperor  by  an  army  on  active  service  was  a 
return  to  the  bad  old  days  of  military  rule,  from 
which  Diocletian  had  rescued  the  Empire,  and  was 
a  clear  warning  that  the  new  system  had  not  been 
established  on  a  permanent  basis.  The  only  alter- 
native, however,  before  Galerius  was  acceptance  or 
war.  For  the  latter  he  was  hardly  prepared,  and 
moreover,  there  was  no  reply  to  the  argument  that 
Constantius  had  been  senior  Augustus,  and,  there- 
fore, had  been  fully  entitled  to  have  his  word  in  the 
appointment  of  a  successor.  Galerius  gave  way. 
He  accepted  the  laurelled  bust  which  Constantine 
had  sent  to  him  and,  instead  of  throwing  it  into  the 
fire  with  the  ofificer  who  had  brought  it — which, 
according  to  Lactantius,  had  been  his  first  impulse, 
— he  sent  the  messenger  back  with  a  purple  robe  to 
his  master  as  a  sign  that  he  frankly  admitted  his 
claims  to  partnership  in  the  Empire. 

But  while  he  acknov/ledged  Constantine  as  Caesar, 
he  refused  him  the  full  title  of  Augustus,  which  he 
bestowed  upon  the  Caesar  Severus.  This  has  been 
represented  as  an  act  of  petty  spite.  In  reality,  it  was 
simply  the  automatic  working  of  the  system  of  Dio- 
cletian. The  latest  winner  of  imperial  dignity  nat- 
urally took  the  fourth  place.  Constantine  accepted 
the  check  without  demur.     He  had  not  spent  so  many 


The  Succession  of  Constantine      51 

years  by  the  side  of  Diocletian  and  Galerius  without 
discovering  that  if  it  came  to  war,  it  was  the  master 
of  the  best  army  who  was  sure  to  be  the  winner  and 
survivor,  whether  his  title  were  Caesar  or  Augustus. 
Thus,  in  July,  306,  Constantine  commenced  his 
eventful  reign  as  the  Caesar  of  the  West,  overlord  of 
Gaul,  Spain,  and  Britain,  and  commander  of  the 
Army  of  the  Rhine,  and,  for  the  next  six  years, 
down  to  his  invasion  of  Italy  in  312,  he  spent  most 
of  his  time  in  the  Gallic  provinces,  where  he  gained 
the  reputation  of  being  a  capable  soldier  and  a 
generous  Prince. 

Gaul  was  slowly  recovering  from  chaos  and  ruin. 
During  the  anarchy  which  had  preceded  the  acces- 
sion of  Diocletian,  she  had  lain  at  the  mercy  of  the 
Germanic  tribes  across  the  Rhine.  The  Roman 
watch  on  the  river  had  been  almost  abandoned ;  the 
legions  and  the  garrisons  had  been  so  weakened  as 
to  be  powerless  to  keep  the  invader  in  check.  The 
Gallic  provinces  were,  in  the  striking  words  of  the 
Panegyrist,  "maddened  by  their  injuries  of  the  years 
gone  by."  *  The  result  had  been  the  peasant  rising 
of  the  Bagaudae,  ruthlessly  suppressed  by  Maximian 
in  285,  but  the  desperate  condition  of  the  country 
may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  Diocletian  and 
Maximian  felt  compelled  to  recognise  the  pretensions 
of  Carausius  in  the  province  of  Britain,  which,  for 
some  years,  was  practically  severed  from  the  Empire. 
And,  moreover,  the  peace  of  Gaul,  which  Maximian 
laboriously  restored,  was  punctuated  by  invasion 
from  the  Germans  across  the  Rhine.     In  the  Pane- 


Gallias ^riorum  temporum  inju}-iis  cfferatas.  Pan.,  vi. ,  8, 


52  Constantine 

gyric  of  Mamertinus  there  occurs  a  curious  passage, 
which  shows  with  what  eyes  the  Romans  regarded 
that  river.  The  orator  is  eulogising  Maximian  in  his 
most  fulsome  strain  for  restoring  tranquillity,  and  then 
says:  "  Was  there  ever  an  Emperor  before  our  day 
who  did  not  congratulate  himself  that  the  Gallic 
provinces  were  protected  by  the  Rhine  ?  When  did 
the  Rhine  shrink  in  its  channel  after  a  long  spell  of 
fine  weather  without  making  us  shiver  with  fear? 
When  did  it  ever  swell  to  a  flood  without  giving  us 
an  extra  sense  of  security  ?  "  *  In  other  words,  the 
danger  of  invasion  rose  and  fell  with  the  rising  and 
falling  of  the  Rhine.  But  now,  continues  the  Pane- 
gyrist, thanks  to  Maximian,  all  our  fears  are  gone. 
The  Rhine  may  dry  up  and  shrink  until  it  can 
scarce  roll  the  smooth  pebbles  in  its  limpid  shal- 
lows, and  none  will  be  afraid.  As  far  as  I  can  see  be- 
yond the  Rhine,  all  is  Roman"  {Quicguid  ultra 
Rhenuvt  prospicio,  Romaniun  est).  Rarely  has  a 
court  rhetorician  uttered  a  more  audacious  lie. 

There  was  no  quality  of  permanence  in  the  Gallic 
peace.  Constantius  took  advantage  of  a  temporary 
lull  to  recover  Britain,  but  in  301  he  was  again 
fighting  the  invading  Germans  and  Franks,  winning 
victories  which  had  to  be  repeated  in  the  following 
summer,  and  making  good  the  dearth  of  labourers  on 
the  devastated  lands  of  Gaul  by  the  captives  he  had 
taken  in  battle.  There  is  a  remarkable  passage 
in  the  Fifth  Panegyric  in  which  the  author  refers 
to  the  long  columns  of  captives  which  he  had  seen  on 
the  march  in  Gaul,  men,  women,   and  children  on 

*  Fan.  Vet.,  ii.,  7. 


The  Succession  of  Constantine      53 

their  way  to  the  desert  regions  assigned  to  them, 
there  to  bring  back  to  fertihty  by  their  labour  as 
slaves  the  very  countryside  which  in  their  freedom 
they  had  pillaged  and  laid  waste.  He  recalled  the 
familiar  sight  of  these  savage  barbarians  tamed  to 
surprising  quiescence,  and  waiting  in  the  public 
places  of  the  ^duan  cities  until  they  were  told  off 
to  their  new  masters.  Gaul  had  suffered  so  long 
from  these  roving  ruffians  from  over  the  Rhine  that 
the  orator  broke  out  into  a  paean  of  exultation  at 
the  thought  that  the  once  dreaded  Chamavan  or 
Frisian  now  tilled  his  estates  for  him,  and  that  the 
vagabond  freebooter  had  become  an  agricultural 
labourer,  who  drove  his  stock  to  the  Gallic  markets 
and  cheapened  the  price  of  commodities  by  increasing 
the  sources  of  supply. 

Full  allowance  must  be  made  for  exaggeration. 
The  tribes,  which  are  described  as  having  been  ex- 
tirpated, reappear  later  on  in  the  same  numbers  as 
before,  and  there  was  security  only  so  long  as  the  Em- 
peror  and  his  legions  were  on  the  spot.  When  Con- 
stantius  crossed  to  Britain  on  the  expedition  which 
terminated  with  his  death,  the  Franks  took  advantage 
of  his  absence  to  "  violate  the  peace."  *  The  words 
would  seem  to  imply  that  there  had  been  a  treaty 
between  Constantius  and  the  Kings  Ascaricus  and 
Regaisus.  They  crossed  the  Rhine  and  Constantine, 
the  new  Caesar,  hastened  back  from  Britain  to  con- 
front them.  Where  the  battle  took  place  is  not 
known,  but  both  Kings  were  captured  and,  together 
with  a   multitude  of   their  followers,   flung   to  the 

*  Pan.,  vii.,  lo. 


54  Constantine 

wild  beasts  in  the  amphitheatre  at  Treves.  Constan- 
tine, who  prided  himself  upon  his  clemency  to  a 
Roman  foe,  whose  sensitive  soul  was  harrowed 
when  even  a  wicked  enemy  perished,*  inflicted  a  fear- 
ful punishment. 

"  Those  slain  in  battle  were  beyond  numbers  ;  very 
many  more  were  taken  prisoners.  All  their  flocks  were 
carried  off  or  butchered;  all  their  villages  burnt  with 
fire  ;  all  their  young  men,  who  were  too  treacherous  to 
be  admitted  into  the  Roman  army,  and  too  brutal  to 
act  as  slaves,  were  thrown  to  the  wild  beasts,  and 
fatigued  the  ravening  creatures  because  there  were  so 
many  of  them  to  kill."t 

Those  atrocious  sentences — written  in  praise, 
not  in  condemnation— assuredly  throw  some  light 
upon  the  "  perpetual  hatreds  and  inextinguishable 
rage":j:  of  the  Franks.  The  common  herd,  says  the 
rhetorician,  may  be  slaughtered  by  the  hundred 
without  their  becoming  aware  of  the  slaughter;  it 
saves  time  and  trouble  to  slay  the  leaders  of  an 
enemy  whom  you  wish  to  conquer.§  The  effect  for 
the  moment  was  decisive,  even  if  we  refuse  to  be- 
lieve that  the  castles  and  strong  places,  set  at  inter- 
vals along  the  banks  of  the  Rhine,  were  henceforth 
regarded  rather  as  ornaments  to  the  frontier  than  as 
a  source  of  protection.  The  bridge,  too,  which 
Constantine  built  at  Cologne,  was  likewise  built  for 

*  Gravate  apud  anitinim  tmitn  etiam  niali pereiint. — Pan.,  x.,  8. 
f  Pati.,  vii.,  12. 

X  Odia  perpetua  et  inexpiabiles  iras. 

§  Compendium  est  devincendorum  hostium  duces  sustulisse. — Pan., 
vii.,  II. 


The  Succession  of  Constantine      55 

business  and  not,  as  the  orator  suggests,  for  the 
glory  of  the  Empire  and  the  beauty  of  the  land- 
scape. When  we  read  of  the  war  galleys,  which 
ceaselessly  patrolled  the  waters  of  the  Rhine,  and 
of  the  soldiery  stationed  along  its  banks  from  source 
to  mouth,*  we  may  judge  how  anxiously  the  watch 
was  kept,  how  nervously  alert  the  Caesar  or  Augustus 
of  the  West  required  to  be  to  guard  the  frontier, 
and  how  profound  a  respect  he  entertained  for  the 
free  German  whom  he  called  barbarian. 

*  Pati.,  vii.,  i"^. 


CHAPTER  IV 

CONSTANTINE  AND   HIS   COLLEAGUES 

WHILE  Constantine  thus  peacefully  succeeded 
his  father  in  the  command  of  Gaul,  Spain, 
and  Britain,  Italy  was  the  scene  of  continued  dis- 
turbance and  of  a  successful  usurpation.  We  have 
seen  how  Severus,  an  officer  of  the  eastern  army 
and  a  trusted  friend  of  Galerius,  had  been  chosen  to 
take  over  the  command  which  Maximian  so  unwill- 
ingly laid  down  at  Milan.  He  was  proclaimed  Caesar, 
with  Italy  and  Africa  for  his  portion,  and  the  admin- 
istration passed  into  his  hands.  But  he  preferred, 
apparently,  to  remain  on  the  lUyrian  border  rather 
than  shew  himself  in  Rome,  and,  in  his  absence, 
Maxentius,  a  son  of  Maximian,  took  the  opportunity 
of  claiming  the  heritage  of  which  he  considered  him- 
self to  have  been  robbed. 

No  single  historian  has  had  a  good  word  to  say  for 
Maxentius,  who  is  described  by  Lactantius  as  "a 
man  of  depraved  mind,  so  consumed  with  pride 
and  stubbornness  that  he  paid  no  deference  or  re- 
spect either  to  his  father  or  his  father-in-law  and  was 
in  consequence  hated  by  both."  *     He  had  married 

*  De  Mort.  Per  sec,  c.  i8. 

56 


Constantine  and  His  Colleagues     57 

a  daughter  of  Galerius,  but  had  been  thrust  on  one 
side  at  the  choosing  of  the  new  Caesars,  and  Severus 
and  Maximin  Daza  had  been  preferred  to  him.  He 
owed  his  elevation  to  the  purple  to  a  successful  mu- 
tiny on  the  part  of  the  Praetorians  at  Rome,  and  to 
the  general  discontent  of  the  Roman  population. 
It  is  evident  that  Rome  watched  with  anger  and 
jealousy  the  loss  of  her  old  exclusive  and  imperial 
position.  The  Emperors  no  longer  resided  on  the 
Palatine,  and  ignored  and  disdained  the  city  on  the 
Tiber.  Diocletian  had  preferred  Nicomedia ;  Max- 
imian  had  fixed  his  Court  at  Milan,  The  imperial 
trappings  at  Rome  were  becoming  a  mockery. 
When,  in  addition  to  neglect,  it  was  ordered  that 
Italy  should  no  longer  be  exempt  from  the  census, 
and  that  the  sacred  Saturnian  soil  should  submit  to 
the  exactions  of  the  tax-gatherer,  public  opinion  was 
ripe  for  revolt. 

Lactantius  affects  to  see  in  the  extension  of  the 
census  to  Rome  a  crowning  example  of  Galerius's 
rapacity.  He  speaks  of  the  Emperor  "devouring 
the  whole  world,"  and  declares  that  his  madness 
carried  him  to  such  outrageous  lengths  that  he 
would  not  suffer  even  the  Roman  people  to  escape 
bondage.  But  Galerius  was  thoroughly  justified  in 
the  step  he  took.  The  immunity  of  Rome  from 
taxation  had  been  a  monstrous  piece  of  fiscal  injus- 
tice to  the  rest  of  the  world,  designed  merely  to 
flatter  the  pride  and  purse  of  the  Roman  citizen. 
Galerius,  moreover,  had  disbanded  some  of  the  Prae- 
torians— who  were  at  once  the  Household  Troops 
and  the  permanent  garrison  of  the  capital ;  but  now 


58  Constantine 

that  the  Emperor  and  the  Court  had  quitted  Rome, 
their  razson  d'etre  was  gone.  The  vast  expenditure 
on  their  pay  and  their  barracks  was  money  thrown 
away.  Galerius,  therefore,  abohshed  the  Praetorian 
camps.  Such  an  act  would  give  clear  warning  that 
the  absence  of  the  Emperors  was  not  merely  tempo- 
rary, but  permanent,  that  the  shifting  of  the  capital 
had  been  due  not  merely  to  personal  predilections, 
but  to  abiding  political  reasons. 

That  the  Praetorians  themselves  received  the  order 
with  sullen  anger  may  well  be  understood.  For  three 
centuries  they  had  been  the  corps  (Tdite  of  the 
Roman  army,  enjoying  special  pay  and  special  ad- 
vantages. They  had  made  and  unmade  Emperors. 
They  had  repeatedly  held  the  fortunes  of  the  Em- 
pire in  their  hands.  The  traditions  of  their  regiments 
fostered  pride  and  arrogance,  for  they  had  seen  little 
active  service  in  their  long  history,  and  the  severest 
conflicts  they  had  had  to  face  were  tumults  in  the  im- 
perial city.  Now  their  privileges  were  destroyed  by 
a  stroke  of  the  pen,  and  needing  but  little  insti- 
gation to  rebellion,  they  offered  the  purple  to  Max- 
entius,  who  gladly  accepted  it.  Nor,  it  is  said,  were 
the  people  unfavourable  to  his  cause,  for  Maxentius's 
agents  had  already  been  busy  among  them,  and  so, 
after  Abellius,  the  praefectof  the  city,  had  been  mur- 
dered, Maxentius  made  himself  master  of  Rome 
without  a  struggle.  His  position,  however,  was 
very  precarious.  He  had  practically  no  army  and 
he  knew  that  neither  Galerius  nor  Severus  would 
recognise  his  pretensions.  The  latter  had  already 
taken  over  the  command  of  the  armies  of  Maximian, 


Constantine  and  His  Colleagues     59 

and  was  the  nominee  of  Galerius,  who  at  once  incited 
his  colleague  to  march  upon  Rome.  Maxentius  saw 
that  his  only  chance  of  success  was  to  corrupt  his 
father's  old  legions,  and  with  this  object  in  view  he 
sent  a  purple  robe  to  Maximian,  urging  him  to 
resume  his  place  and  title  of  Augustus.  Maximian 
agreed  with  alacrity.  He  had  been  spending  his 
enforced  leisure  not  in  amateur  gardening  and  con- 
tentment, like  his  colleague  at  Salona,  but  in  his 
Campanian  villa,  chafing  at  his  lost  dignity.  Hence 
he  eagerly  responded  to  the  summons  of  his  son  and 
resumed  the  purple,  not  so  much  as  Maxentius's  sup- 
porter, but  as  the  senior  acting  Augustus. 

Severus  marched  straight  down  the  Italian  penin- 
sula and  laid  siege  to  Rome,  only  to  find  himself 
deserted  by  his  soldiers.  According  to  Zosimus,  the 
troops  which  first  played  him  false  were  a  Moorish 
contingent  fresh  from  Africa.  Then,  when  the 
treachery  spread,  Severus  hastily  retired  on  Ra- 
venna, where  he  could  maintain  touch  with  Galerius 
in  Illyria,  and  was  there  besieged  by  Maximian  and 
Maxentius.  Doubtless,  if  he  had  waited,  Galerius 
would  have  sent  him  reinforcements  or  come  in 
person  to  his  assistance,  for  his  own  prestige  was 
deeply  involved  in  that  of  Severus.  But  the  latter 
seems  to  have  allowed  himself  to  be  enticed  out  of 
his  strong  refuge  by  the  plausible  overtures  of  his 
rivals.  He  set  out  for  Rome,  prepared  to  resign 
the  throne  on  condition  of  receiving  honourable 
treatment,  but  on  reaching  a  spot  named  "  The 
Three  Taverns,"  on  the  Appian  Road,  he  was  seized 
and  thrown  into  chains.     The  only  consideration  he 


6o  Constantine 

received  from  his  captors  was  that  they  allowed  him 
to  choose  his  own  way  of  relieving  them  of  his 
presence.  He  opened  his  veins.  So  gentle  a  death 
in  those  violent  times  was  considered  "  good."  * 

This  victory  over  Severus,  gained  with  such  as- 
tonishing ease,  speaks  well  for  the  popularity  of 
Maximian  with  his  old  soldiers.  Galerius  prepared 
to  avenge  the  defeat  and  murder  of  his  friend  and 
invaded  Italy  at  the  head  of  a  large  army.  He 
too,  like  Severus,  marched  down  the  peninsula,  but 
he  got  no  nearer  to  Rome  than  Narnia,  sixty  miles 
distant.  There  he  halted,  despite  the  fact  that  no 
opposition  was  being  offered  to  his  advance.  Why  ? 
The  reason  is  undoubtedly  to  be  found  in  the  at- 
titude of  Constantine,  who  had  mobilised  his  army 
upon  the  Gallic  frontier  and  was  waiting  on  events. 
There  was  no  love  lost  between  Constantine  and 
Galerius.  If  Constantine  crossed  the  Alps  and 
1  followed  down  on  the  track  of  Galerius,  the  latter 
'would  find  himself  between  two  fires.  Galerius  is 
represented  by  Zosimus  as  being  suspicious  of  the 
loyalty  of  his  troops  ;  it  is  more  probable  that  he 
decided  to  retreat  as  soon  as  he  heard  that  Constan- 
tine had  thrown  in  his  lot  with  Maximian  and 
Maxentius.  Maximian  had  been  sedulously  trying 
to  secure  alliances  for  himself  and  his  son.  He  had 
made  overtures  to  the  recluse  of  Salona.  But 
Diocletian  had  turned  a  deaf  ear.  Even  if  he  had 
hankered  after  power  again,  he  would  hardly  have 
declared  himself  in  opposition  to  the  ruler  of  Illyria, 

*  Nihil  aliud  i?npetravit  7iisi  bonam  mortem, — De  Mort,  Per  sec, 
c.  26. 


Constantine  and  His  Colleagues    6i 

while  he  was  dwelling  within  reach  of  Galerius. 
With  Constantine,  however,  Maximian  had  better 
success.  He  gave  him  his  daughter  Fausta  in  mar- 
riage and  incited  him  to  attack  Galerius,  who  at  once 
drew  his  troops  off  into  Illyria,  after  laying  waste 
the  Transpadane  region  with  fire  and  sword. 

Some  very  curious  stories  are  told  in  connection 
with  this  expedition  of  Galerius.  Lactantius  de- 
clares that  he  invaded  Italy  with  the  intention  of 
extinguishing  the  Senate  and  butchering  the  people 
of  Rome ;  that  he  found  the  gates  of  all  the  cities 
shut  against  him  ;  and  discovered  that  he  had  not 
brought  suf^cient  troops  with  him  to  attempt  a 
siege  of  the  capital.  "  He  had  never  seen  Rome," 
says  Lactantius  naively,  "  and  thought  it  was  not 
much  bigger  than  the  cities  with  which  he  was  fa- 
miliar." Galerius  was,  it  is  true,  a  rough  soldier  of 
the  camp,  but  it  is  ludicrous  to  suppose  that  he  was 
not  fully  cognisant  of  the  topography  and  the  for- 
tifications of  Rome.  Then  we  are  told  that  some 
of  the  legions  were  afBicted  with  scruples  at  the 
idea  of  being  called  to  fight  for  a  father-in-law 
against  his  son-in-law — as  though  there  were  pro- 
hibited degrees  in  hatreds — and  shrank  as  Roman 
soldiers  from  the  thought  of  moving  to  the  assault 
of  Rome.  And,  as  a  finishing  touch  to  this  most 
extraordinary  canvas,  Lactantius  paints  into  it  the 
figure  of  Galerius  kneeling  at  the  feet  of  his  soldiers, 
praying  them  not  to  betray  him,  and  offering  them 
large  rewards.  We  do  not  recognise  Galerius  in 
such  a  guise.  Again,  an  unknown  historian,  of 
whose  work  only  a  few  fragments  survive,  says  that 


62  Constantine 

when  Galerius  reached  Narnia  he  opened  communi- 
cations with  Maximian  and  proposed  to  treat  for 
peace,  but  that  his  overtures  were  contemptuously 
spurned.  This  does  not  violate  the  probabilities 
like  the  reckless  malevolence  of  Lactantius,  but, 
after  all,  the  simplest  explanation  is  the  one  which 
we  have  given  above.  Galerius  halted  and  then 
retired  when  he  heard  that  Constantine  had  come  to 
an  understanding  with  Maximian,  had  married  his 
daughter,  and  was  waiting  and  watching  on  the 
Gallic  border.  No  pursuit  seems  to  have  been 
attempted. 

Maximian  and  Maxentius  were  thus  left  in  undis- 
puted possession  of  Italy.  They  were  clearly  in 
alliance  with  Constantine,  but  their  relations  with 
one  another  were  exceedingly  anomalous.  Both  are 
represented  in  equally  odious  colours.  Eutropius 
describes  the  father  as  "  embittered  and  brutal,  faith- 
less, troublesome,  and  utterly  devoid  of  good  man- 
ners " ;  Aurelius  Victor  says  of  the  son  that  no  one 
ever  Hked  him,  not  even  his  own  father.  Indeed, 
the  scandal-mongers  of  the  day  denied  the  parentage 
of  Maxentius  and  said  that  he  was  the  son  of  some 
low-born  Syrian  and  had  been  foisted  upon  Max- 
imian by  his  wife  as  her  own  child.  Public  opinion, 
however,  was  inclined  to  throw  the  blame  of  the 
rupture,  which  speedily  took  place  between  Max- 
imian and  Maxentius,  upon  the  older  man,  who  is 
depicted  as  a  restless  and  mischievous  intriguer. 
In  Rome,  at  any  rate,  the  army  looked  to  the  son 
as  its  chief,  and  as  there  was  but  one  army,  there 
was  no  room  for  two  Emperors.     Lactantius  tells 


BUST  OF  MAXIMIAN   AT    ROME. 

PHOTOGRAPH    BY    ALINARI. 


Constantine  and  His  Colleagues    63 

the  story  that  Maximian  called  a  great  mass  meeting 
of  citizens  and  soldiers,  dilated  at  length  upon  the 
evils  of  the  situation,  and  then,  turning  to  his  son, 
declared  that  he  was  the  cause  of  all  the  trouble  and 
snatched  the  purple  from  his  shoulders.  But  Max- 
imian had  the  mortification  of  seeing  Maxentius  shel- 
tered instead  of  slaughtered  by  the  soldiers,  and  it 
was  he  himself  who  was  driven  with  ignominy  from 
the  city,  like  a  second  Tarquin  the  Proud. 

Whether  these  circumstantial  details  are  to  be  ac- 
cepted or  not,  there  is  no  doubt  as  to  the  sequel. 
Maximian  was  expelled  from  Rome  and  Italy,  and 
began  a  series  of  wanderings  which  were  only  to  end 
with  his  death.  He  seems  first  of  all  to  have  fled 
into  Gaul  and  thrown  himself  upon  the  protection  of 
his  son-in-law,  Constantine,  and  then  to  have  opened 
up  negotiations  with  Galerius,  who  must  naturally 
have  desired  to  establish  some  -modus  vivendi  be- 
tween all  the  rival  Emperors.  Galerius  called  a 
conference  at  Carnuntum  on  the  Danube  and  invited 
the  presence  of  Diocletian.  Maximian  was  there; 
so  too  was  Licinius,  an  old  companion-in-arms  of 
Galerius  and  his  most  trusted  lieutenant.  Of  the 
debates  which  took  place  no  word  has  survived. 
But  the  fact  that  Diocletian  was  invited  to  attend  is 
clear  proof  that  Galerius  regarded  him  -with  the  pro- 
found respect  that  was  due  to  the  senior  Augustus 
and  the  founder  of  the  system  which  had  broken 
down  so  badly.  Galerius  wished  the  old  man  to 
suggest  a  way  out  of  the  impasse  which  had  been 
reached,  to  devise  some  plan  whereby  his  dilapidated 
fabric   might   still   be    patched    up.       Even   in   his 


64  Constantine 

retirement  the  practical  wisdom  of  Diocletian  was 
gladly  recognised,  and  three  years  later  we  find  one 
of  the  Panegyrists  sounding  his  praises  in  the  pre- 
sence of  Constantine.  This  shews  that  Diocletian 
and  Constantine  were  on  friendly  terms,  else  Dio- 
cletian would  only  have  been  mentioned  with  abuse, 
or  would  have  been  passed  over  in  significant  silence. 
The  passage  deserves  quotation  : 

"  That  divine  statesman,  who  was  the  first  to  share  his 
Empire  with  others  and  the  first  to  lay  it  down,  does  not 
regret  the  step  he  took,  nor  thinks  that  he  has  lost  what 
he  voluntarily  resigned;  nay,  he  is  truly  blessed  and 
happy,  since,  even  in  his  retirement,  such  mighty  Princes 
as  you  offer  him  the  protection  of  your  deep  respect. 
He  is  upheld  by  a  multiplicity  of  Empires;  he  rejoices 
in  the  cover  of  your  shade."  * 

Diocletian  would  not  have  been  called  to  Carnun- 
tum,  or,  if  called,  he  would  scarcely  have  undertaken 
so  tedious  a  journey,  had  there  not  been  affairs  of 
the  highest  moment  to  be  discussed.  We  know  of 
only  one  certain  result  of  this  strange  council  of  Em- 
perors. It  is  that  a  new  Augustus  was  created  by 
Galerius  without  passing  through  the  intermediate 
stage  of  being  a  Caesar.  He  was  found  in  Licinius, 
to  whom  was  assigned  the  administration  of  Illyria 
with  the  command  of  the  Danubian  legions,  and  the 
status  of  second  rank  in  the  hierarchy  of  the  Augusti, 
or  rather  of  the  Augusti  in  active  life.  Galerius,  we 
may  infer,  was  sensible  of  the  approaching  break- 

*  Sed  et  ilk  multijiigo  fultus  imperio  et  vestro  Icetus  tegitur  um' 
braculo. — Pan.   Vet.,    vii.,  15. 


Constantine  and  His  Colleagues     65 

down  of  his  health  and  wished  his  friend  Licinius  to 
be  ready  to  step  into  his  place.  Apparently,  a  genu- 
ine attempt  was  made  to  restore  to  something  like 
its  old  position  the  system  of  Diocletian.  Perhaps 
as  reasonable  a  supposition  as  any  is  that  it  was 
decided  at  the  conference  that  Diocletian  and  Max- 
imian  should  again  be  relegated  to  the  ranks  of 
retired  Augusti,  that  Galerius  and  Licinius  should 
be  the  two  active  Augusti,  and  Constantine  and 
Maximin  the  two  Caesars.  Maximian  had  unques- 
tionably gone  to  Carnuntum  with  the  hope  of  fishing 
in  troubled  waters  and  Lactantius*  even  attributes 
to  him  a  wild  scheme  for  assassinating  Galerius.  It 
is,  at  any  rate,  certain  that  he  left  the  conference  in 
a  fury  of  disappointment.  The  ambitious  and  rest- 
less old  man  had  received  no  encouragement  to  his 
hopes  of  again  being  supreme  over  part  of  the 
Empire. 

But  what  then  of  Maxentius,  who  was  in  possession 
of  Italy  and  Africa  ?  If  the  theory  we  have  pro- 
pounded be  right,  he  must  have  been  studiously 
ignored  and  treated  as  a  usurper,  to  be  thrown  out — 
just  as  Carausius  had  been — at  a  favourable  oppor-- 
tunity.  There  is  a  passage  in  Lactantius  which 
seems  to  corroborate  this  suggestion.  That  author 
says  that  Maximin  Daza,  the  Caesar  of  Egypt  and 
Syria  and  the  old  protege  of  Galerius,  heard  with 
anger  that  Licinius  had  been  promoted  over  his 
head  to  be  Augustus  and  hold  the  second  place  in 
the  charmed  circle  of  Emperors.  He  sent  angry  re- 
monstrances ;  Galerius  returned  a  soft  answer.    Max- 

*  De  Mort.  Per  sec,  c,  29. 
5 


66  Constantine 

imin  assumed  an  even  more  aggressive  bearing  (/^^Z/zV 
aiidacius  cormia),  urged  more  peremptorily  than  ever 
his  superior  right,  and  spurned  Galerius's  entreaties 
and  commands.  Then,— Lactantius  goes  on  to  say, 
— overborne  by  Maximin's  stubborn  obstinacy,  Gal- 
erius  offered  a  compromise,  by  naming  himself  and 
Licinius  as  Augusti  and  Maximin  and  Constantine 
as  Sons  of  the  Augusti,  instead  of  simple  Caesars. 

But  Maximin  was  obdurate  and  wrote  saying  that 
his  soldiers  had  taken  the  law  into  their  own  hands 
and  had  already  saluted  him  as  Augustus.  Galerius 
therefore,  in  the  face  of  the  accomplished  fact,  gave 
way  and  recognised  not  only  Maximin  but  Constan- 
tine also  as  full  Augusti.  Such  is  the  story  of  Lao;_ 
tantius.  It  will  be  noted  that  the  name  of  Maxentius 
is  not  mentioned.  He  is  treated  as  non-existent. 
There  need  be  no  surprise  that  nothing  is  said  of  Dio- 
cletian and  Maximian,  for  they  were  ex-Augusti,  so  to 
speak,  though  still  bearing  the  courtesy  title.  But 
if  Maxentius  had  been  recognised  as  one  of  the 
"  Imperial  Brothers  "  at  the  conference  of  Carnun- 
tum,  the  omission  of  his  name  by  Lactantius  is  ex- 
ceedingly strange.  From  his  account  we  should 
judge  that  the  poHcy  decided  upon  at  Carnuntum 
was  to  restore  the  fourfold  system  of  Diocletian  in 
the  persons  of  Galerius,  Licinius,  Maximin,  and  Con- 
stantine, taking  precedence  in  the  order  named. 
When  Maximin  refused  to  be  content  with  his  old 
title  of  Caesar  or  to  accept  the  new  one  of  Son 
of  Augustus,  and  insisted  on  being  acknowledged 
as  Augustus,  the  system  broke  down  anew.  At  the 
beginning  of  308,  there  were  no  fewer  than  seven 


Constantine  and  His  Colleagues    67 

who  bore  the   name  of  Augustus.     And  of   these 
Diocletian  alone  had  outlived  his  ambitions. 

Maximian  returned  to  Gaul,  where  he  received 
cordial  welcome  from  Constantine.  He  had  resigned  ; 
his  pretensions  not — as  says  Lactantius,  cognisant  as 
ever  of  the  secret  motives  of  his  enemies — that  he 
might  the  more  easily  deceive  Constantine,  but  be- 
cause it  had  been  so  decided  at  Carnuntum.  He 
was  thus  a  private  citizen  once  more ;  he  had  neither 
army,  nor  official  status,  nothing  beyond  the  prestige 
attaching  to  one  who  had,  so  to  speak,  "  passed  the 
chair."  There  can  be  little  doubt  that  his  second 
resignation  was  as  reluctant  as  the  first,  but  as  he 
was  at  open  enmity  with  his  son,  Maxentius,  he  had 
only  Constantine  to  look  to  for  protection  and  the 
means  of  livelihood.  And  Constantine,  according 
to  the  author  of  the  Seventh  Panegyric,  gave  him  all 
the  honours  due  to  his  exalted  rank.  He  assigned 
to  him  the  place  of  honour  on  his  right  hand  ;  put  at 
his  disposal  the  stables  of  the  palace ;  and  ordered 
his  servants  to  pay  to  Maximian  the  same  deference 
that  they  paid  to  himself.  The  orator  declares  that 
the  gossip  of  the  day  spoke  of  Constantine  as  wear- 
ing the  robe  of  office,  while  Maximian  wielded  its 
powers.  Evidently  Constantine  had  no  fear  that 
Maximian  would  play  him  false. 

His  confidence,  however,  soon  received  a  rude 
shock.  The  Franks  were  restless  and  threatened 
invasion.  Constantine  marched  north  with  his 
army,  leaving  Maximian  at  Aries.  He  did  not  take 
his  entire  forces  with  him,  for  a  considerable  number 
remained  in  the  south  of  Gaul — no  doubt  to  guard 


68  Constantine 

the  frontier  against  danger  from  Maxentius,  though 
Lactantius  explains  it  otherwise.  Maximian  waited 
till  sufficient  time  had  elapsed  for  Constantine  to 
be  well  across  the  Rhine,  and  then  began  to  spread 
rumours  of  his  having  been  defeated  and  slain  in 
battle.  For  the  third  time,  therefore,  he  assumed 
the  purple,  seized  the  State  treasuries,  and  took 
command  of  the  legions,  offering  them  a  large  dona- 
tive, and  appealing  to  their  old  loyalty.  The  usurp- 
ation was  entirely  successful  for  the  moment,  but 
when  Constantine  heard  of  the  treachery  he  hurried 
back,  leaving  the  affairs  of  the  frontier  to  settle 
themselves. 

Constantine  knew  the  military  value  of  mobility, 
and  his  soldiers  eagerly  made  his  quarrel  their  own. 
There  is  an  amusing  passage  in  the  Seventh  Pane- 
gyric *  in  which  the  orator  says  that  the  troops 
shewed  their  devotion  by  refusing  the  offer  of  spe- 
cial travelling-money  {viatica)  on  the  ground  that  it 
would  hamper  them  on  the  march.  Their  generous 
pay,  they  said,  was  more  than  sufficient,  though  no 
Roman  army  before  this  time  had  ever  been  known 
to  refuse  money.  Then  he  describes  how  they 
marched  from  the  Rhine  to  the  Aar  without  rest, 
yet  with  unwearied  bodies ;  how  at  Chalons  (Cabillo- 
num)  they  were  placed  on  board  river  boats,  but 
found  the  current  too  sluggish  for  their  impetuous 
eagerness  to  come  to  conclusions  with  the  traitor, 
and  cried  out  that  they  were  standing  still ;  and 
how,  even  when  they  entered  the  rapid  current  of 
the  Rhone,  its  pace  scarcely  satisfied  their  ardour, 

*C.  i8. 


Constantine  and  His  Colleagues    69 

Such,  according  to  the  Court  rhetorician,  was  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  soldiers  for  their  young  leader. 
When,  at  length,  Aries  was  reached,  it  was  found 
that  Maximian  had  fled  to  Marseilles  and  had  shut 
himself  up  within  that  strongly  fortified  town.  His 
power  had  crumbled  away.  The  legions,  which  had 
sworn  allegiance  to  him,  withdrew  it  again  as  soon  as 
they  found  that  he  had  lied  to  them  of  Constantine's 
death ;  even  the  soldiers  he  had  with  him  in  Mar- 
seilles only  waited  for  the  appearance  of  Constan- 
tine before  the  walls  to  open  the  gates.  The  picture 
which  Lactantius  draws  of  Constantine  reproaching 
Maximian  for  his  ingratitude  while  the  latter — from 
the  summit  of  the  wall — heaps  curses  on  his  head 
{jngerebat  maledicta  de  imiris),  or  the  companion 
picture  of  the  anonymous  rhetorician,  who  shews  us 
the  scaling  ladders  falling  short  of  the  top  of  the 
battlements  and  the  devoted  soldiers  climbing  up  on 
their  comrades'  backs,  are  vivid  but  unconvincing. 
What  emerges  from  their  doubtful  narratives  is  that 
Marseilles  was  captured  without  a  siege,  and  that 
Maximian  fell  into  the  hands  of  his  justly  angry 
son-in-law,  who  stripped  him  of  his  titles  but  vouch- 
safed to  him  his  life. 

Was  Maximian  in  league  with  his  son,  Maxentius, 
in  this  usurpation  ?  Had  they  made  up  their  old 
quarrel  in  order  to  turn  their  united  weapons 
against  Constantine  ?  There  were  those  who 
thought  so  at  the  time,  as  Lactantius  says,  *  the 
theory  being  that  the  old  man  only  pretended 
violent  enmity  towards  his  son  in  order  to  carry  out 

*De  Mort.  Per  sec,  c.  43. 


70  Constantine 

his  treacherous  designs  against  Constantine  and  the 
other  Emperors. 

Lactantius  himself  denies  this  supposition  bluntly 
{Sed  id  falsum  fuif)  and  then  goes  on  to  say*  that 
Maximian's  real  motive  was  to  get  rid  both  of 
Maxentius  and  the  rest,  and  restore  Diocletian  and 
himself  to  power.  Even  for  Lactantius,  this  is  an 
extraordinarily  wild  theory.  It  runs  counter  to  all 
that  we  know  of  Diocletian's  wishes  during  his 
retirement,  and  it  speaks  of  the  "  extinction  of 
Maxentius  and  the  rest"  as  though  it  only  needed 
an  order  to  a  centurion  and  the  deed  was  done.  It 
is  much  more  probable  that  Maximian  had  actually 
re-entered  into  negotiations  with  Maxentius  and 
had  offered,  as  the  price  of  reconciliation,  the  sup- 
port of  the  legions  which  he  had  treacherously  won 
from  Constantine.  The  impetuous  haste  with  which 
Constantine  flew  back  from  the  Rhine  indicates 
that  the  crisis  was  one  of  extreme  gravity. 

Maximian  did  not  long  survive  his  degradation. 
That  he  died  a  violent  death  is  certain  ;  the  circum- 
stances attending  it  are  in  doubt.  Lactantius  gives 
a  minute  narrative  which  would  carry  greater  con- 
viction if  the  details  had  not  been  so  manifestly 
borrowed  from  the  chronicles  of  the  East.  He  says 
that  Maximian,  tiring  of  his  humiliating  position, 
engaged  in  new  plots  against  Constantine,  and 
tempted  Fausta,  his  daughter,  to  betray  her  hus- 
band by  the  promise  of  a  worthier  spouse.  Her 
part  in  the  conspiracy  was  to  secure  the  removal  of 


*  Na7n  id  propositi  habebat,  til  et  filio  et  ceteris  extinctis  se  ac  Dio- 
cletianum  restitueret  in  regftwn. 


FRAGMENT  OF  4TH  CENTURY  EGYPTIAN    POTTERY  BOWL 

IG    AN    EARLY    PORTRAIT    OF   CHRIST,   WITH   BUSTS    OF    THE   EMPEROR   CONSTANTINE 
AND    THE    EMPRESS    FAUSTA.        (fROM    THE    BRITISH    MUSEUM.) 


Constantine  and  His  Colleagues     71 

the  guards  from  Constantine's  sleeping  apartment. 
Fausta  laid  the  whole  scheme  before  her  husband, 
who  ordered  one  of  his  eunuchs  to  sleep  in  the  royal 
chamber.  Maximian,  rising  in  the  dead  of  night, 
told  the  sentries  that  he  had  dreamed  an  important 
dream  which  he  wished  at  once  to  communicate  to 
his  son-in-law  and  thus  gained  entrance  to  the  room. 
Drawing  his  sword,  he  cut  off  the  eunuch's  head 
and  rushed  out  boasting  that  he  had  slain  Con- 
stantine— only  to  be  confronted  by  Constantine  him- 
self at  the  head  of  a  troop  of  armed  men.  The 
corpse  was  brought  out ;  the  self-convicted  mur- 
derer stood  "  speechless  as  Marpesian  flint."  Con- 
stantine upbraided  him  with  his  treachery,  gave  him 
permission  to  choose  his  own  mode  of  dying,  and 
Maximian  hanged  himself,  "  drawing  " — as  Virgil 
had  said — "  from  the  lofty  beam  the  noose  of 
shameful  death." 

Such  is  the  story  of  Lactantius  ;  it  could  scarcely 
be  more  circumstantial.  But  if  this  had  been  the 
manner  of  Maximian's  death,  it  is  hardly  possible 
that  the  other  historians  would  have  passed  it  by 
in  silence.  Eusebius,  in  his  Ecclesiastical  History, 
simply  says  that  Maximian  strangled  himself;  Au- 
relius  Victor  that  he  justly  perished  {Jure perierat). 
The  author  of  the  Seventh  Panegyric  declares  that, 
though  Constantine  offered  him  his  life,  Maximian 
deemed  himself  unworthy  of  the  boon  and  com- 
mitted suicide.*  Eutropius,  evidently  borrowing 
from  Lactantius,  remarks  that  Maximian  paid  the 

*Necse  dignum  vita  judicavit,  cum  per  te  liceret  ut  viveret. — Pan, 
Vet.,  vii.,  20. 


72 


Constantine 


penalty  for  his  crimes.  There  is  little  doubt,  there- 
fore, that  Constantine  ordered  his  execution  and 
gave  him  choice  of  death,  just  as  Maxentius  had 
given  similar  choice  to  Severus.  Officially  it  would 
be  announced  that  Maximian  had  committed  sui- 
cide. At  the  time,  public  opinion  was  shocked  by 
the  manner  of  his  death,  though  it  was  generally 
conceded  that  his  life  was  justly  forfeit. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   INVASION   OF   ITALY 

THE  tragic  end  of  his  old  colleague  must  have 
raised  many  disquieting  thoughts  in  the  mind 
of  Diocletian,  already  beginning  to  be  anxious  lest 
his  successors  should  think  that  he  was  living  too 
long.  While  Galerius  flourished  he  was  sure  of  a 
protector,  but  Galerius  died  in  311.  In  the  eigh- 
teenth year  of  his  rule  he  had  been  stricken  with 
an  incurable  and  loathsome  malady,  into  the  de- 
tails of  which  Lactantius  enters  with  a  morbid  but 
lively  enjoyment,  affecting  to  see  in  the  torture 
of  the  dying  Emperor  the  visitation  of  an  angry 
Providence.  He  describes  minutely  the  progress 
of  the  cancer  and  the  "  appalling  odour  of  the  fes- 
tering wound  which  spread  not  only  through  the 
palace  but  through  the  city."  He  shews  us  the 
unhappy  patient  raising  piercing  cries  and  calling 
for  mercy  from  the  God  of  the  Christians  whom  he 
had  persecuted,  vowing  under  the  stress  of  physi- 
cal anguish  that  he  would  make  reparation  ;  and, 
finally,  when  at  the  very  point  of  death  (^jam 
deficiens),  dictating  the  edict  which  stayed  the  per- 
secution and  gave  the  Christians  full  Hberty  to 
73 


74  Constantine 

worship  in  their  own  way.  It  will  be  more  con- 
venient to  discuss  in  another  place  this  remarkable 
document,  the  forerunner,  so  to  speak,  of  the 
famous  Edict  of  Milan.  It  was  promulgated  at 
Nicomedia  on  the  thirtieth  of  April,  311,  and  a 
few  days  later  Galerius's  torments  were  mercifully 
ended  by  death. 

The  death  of  Galerius  gave  another  blow  to  the 
already  tottering  system  of  Diocletian.  It  had  been 
his  intention  to  retire,  as  Diocletian  had  done,  at 
the  end  of  his  twentieth  year  of  sovereignty,  and 
make  way  for  a  younger  man,  and  there  can  be 
little  doubt  that  he  would  have  been  as  good  as  his 
word.  Galerius  has  not  received  fair  treatment  at 
the  hands  of  posterity.  Lactantius,  his  bitter  enemy, 
describes  him  as  a  violent  ruffian  and  a  hectoring 
bully,  an  object  of  terror  and  fear  to  all  around 
him  in  word,  deed,  and  aspect.  Lactantius  belittles 
the  importance  of  his  victory  over  Narses,  the 
Persian  King,  by  saying  that  the  Persian  army 
marched  encumbered  with  baggage  and  that  victory 
was  easily  won.  He  makes  Galerius  the  leading 
spirit  of  the  Persecution  ;  represents  him  as  having 
goaded  Diocletian  into  signing  the  fatal  edicts ; 
accuses  him  of  having  fired  the  palace  at  Nicomedia 
in  order  to  work  on  the  terrors  of  his  chief ;  charges 
him  with  having  invented  new  and  horrible  tortures; 
and  declares  that  he  never  dined  or  supped  without 
whetting  his  appetite  with  the  sight  of  human  blood. 
No  one  would  gather  from  Lactantius  that  Galerius 
was  a  fine  soldier,  a  hard-working  and  capable 
Emperor,  and  a  loyal  successor  to  a  great  political 


The  Invasion  of  Italy  75 

chief.  Eutropius  does  him  no  more  than  justice 
when  he  describes  him  as  a  man  of  high  principle 
and  a  consummate  general.*  AureHus  Victor  fills  in 
the  light  and  shade.  Galerius  was,  he  says,  a  Prince 
worthy  of  all  praise  ;  just  if  unpolished  and  un- 
tutored ;  of  handsome  presence ;  and  an  accom- 
plished and  fortunate  general.  He  had  risen  from 
the  ranks  ;  in  his  young  days  he  had  been  a  herd 
boy,  and  the  name  of  Armentarins  clung  to  him 
through  life.  This  rough  and  ready  Pannonian 
spent  too  energetic  and  busy  a  career  to  have  time 
for  culture.  He  came  from  a  province  where,  in  the 
forceful  phrase  of  one  of  the  Panegyrists,  "  life  was 
all  hard  knocks  and  fighting."  f 

Galerius  had  already  nominated  Licinius  as  his 
successor,  but  Licinius  was  far  away  in  Pannonia 
and  did  not  cross  over  at  once  into  Asia  to  take 
command  of  Galerius's  army — no  doubt  because  it 
was  not  safe  for  him  to  leave  his  post.  In  the 
meantime,  Maximin  Daza,  the  Augustus  of  Syria 
and  Egypt,  had  been  preparing  to  march  on  Nico- 
media  as  soon  as  Galerius  breathed  his  last,  for  he 
claimed,  as  we  have  seen,  that  by  seniority  of  rule 
he  had  a  better  right  than  Licinius  to  the  title 
of  senior  Augustus.  While,  therefore,  Licinius  re- 
mained in  Europe,  Maximin  Daza  advanced  from 
Syria  across  the  Taurus  and  entered  Bithynia, 
where,  to  curry  favour  with  the  people,  he  abolished 
the  census.     It  was  expected  that  the  two  Emperors 


*  Vir  et  probe  moratus  et  egregius  re  militari. 
\  In  quibus  omnis  vita  militia  est. 


76  Constantine 

would  fight  out  their  quarrel,  but  an  accommoda- 
tion was  arrived  at,  and  they  agreed  that  the  Hel- 
lespont should  form  the  boundary  between  them. 
Maximin,  by  his  promptitude,  had  thus  materially 
increased  his  sovereignty,  and,  at  the  beginning  of 
312,  the  eastern  half  of  the  Empire  was  divided 
between  Licinius  and  Maximin  Daza,  while  Con- 
stantine ruled  in  Great  Britain,  Spain,  and  Gaul,  and 
Maxentius  was  master  of  Italy  and  Africa. 

Whether  or  not  his  position  had  been  recognised 
by  the  other  Emperors  at  the  conference  of  Carnun- 
tum,  Maxentius  had  remained  in  undisturbed  posses- 
sion of  Italy  since  the  hurried  retreat  of  the  invading 
army  of  Galerius.  In  Africa,  indeed,  a  general  named 
Alexander,  who,  according  to  Zosimus,  was  a  Phry- 
gian by  descent,  and  timid  and  advanced  in  years, 
raised  the  standard  of  revolt.  Maxentius  commis- 
sioned one  of  his  lieutenants  to  attack  the  usurper 
and  Alexander  was  captured  and  strangled.  There 
would  have  been  nothing  to  distinguish  this  insur- 
rection from  any  other,  had  it  not  been  for  the  ruth- 
less severity  with  which  the  African  cities  were 
treated  by  the  conqueror.  Carthage  and  Cirta  were 
pillaged  and  sacked;  the  countryside  was  laid  deso- 
late ;  many  of  the  leading  citizens  were  executed ; 
still  more  were  reduced  to  beggary.  The  ruin  of 
Africa  was  so  complete  that  it  excited  against  Max- 
entius the  public  opinion  of  the  Roman  world.  He 
had  begun  his  reign,  as  will  be  remembered,  as  the 
special  champion  of  the  Praetorians  and  of  the  priv- 
ileges of  Rome,  but  he  soon  lost  his  early  popularity, 
and  rapidly  developed  into  a  cruel  and  bloodthirsty 


The  Invasion  of  Italy  n 

tyrant.  His  profligacy  was  shameless  and  excessive, 
even  for  those  Hcentious  times.  Eusebius  tells  the 
story  of  how  Sophronia,  the  Christian  wife  of  the 
city  praefect,  stabbed  herself  in  order  to  escape  his 
embraces,  when  the  imperial  messengers  came  to 
summon  her  to  the  palace. 

If  Maxentius  had  been  accused  of  all  the  vices  only 
on  the  authority  of  the  Christian  authors  and  the 
ofificial  panegyrists  of  Constantine,  their  statements 
might  have  been  received  with  some  suspicion — for 
a  fallen  Roman  Emperor  had  no  friends.  Zosimus, 
however,  is  almost  as  severe  upon  him  as  Lactantius, 
and  Julian,  in  the  Banquet  of  the  Ccesars,  excludes 
him  from  the  feast  as  one  utterly  unworthy  of  a 
place  in  honourable  society.  According  to  Aurelius 
Victor,  he  was  the  first  to  start  the  practice  of  exact- 
ing from  the  senators  large  sums  of  money  in  the 
guise  of  free  gifts  {inunerum  specie)  on  the  flimsiest 
pretexts  of  public  necessity,  or  as  payment  for  the 
bestowal  of  office  or  civil  distinction.  Moreover, 
knowing  that,  sooner  or  later,  he  would  find  himself 
at  war  with  one  or  other  of  his  brother  Augusti, 
Maxentius  amassed  great  stores  of  corn  and  wealth 
and  took  no  heed  of  a  morrow  which  he  knew  that 
he  might  not  live  to  witness.  He  despoiled  the 
temples, — says  the  author  of  the  Ninth  Panegyric, — 
butchered  the  Senate,  and  starved  the  people  of 
Rome.  The  Praetorians— who  had  placed  and  kept 
him  on  the  throne— ruled  the  city.  Zosimus  tells 
the  curious  story  of  how,  in  the  course  of  a  great  fire 
in  Rome,  the  Temple  of  Fortune  was  burned  down 
and  one  of  the  soldiers  looking  on  spoke  blasphemous 


78  Constantine 

and  disrespectful  words  of  the  goddess.  Immedi- 
ately the  mob  attacked  him.  His  comrades  went  to 
his  assistance  and  a  serious  riot  ensued,  during  which 
the  Praetorians  would  have  massacred  the  citizens 
had  they  not  been  with  difficulty  restrained.  All 
the  authorities,  indeed,  agree  that  a  perfect  reign  of 
terror  prevailed  at  Rome  after  Maxentius's  victory 
over  Alexander  in  Africa,  while  Maxentius  himself  is 
depicted  as  a  second  Commodus  or  Nero. 

One  of  the  most  vivid  pictures  of  the  tyrant  is 
given  in  the  Panegyric  already  quoted.  The  orator 
speaks  of  Maxentius  as  a  "  stupid  and  worthless 
wild-beast"  {stultiimet  ncqiiam  animal)  skulking  for 
ever  within  the  walls  of  the  palace  and  not  daring  to 
leave  the  precincts.  Fancy,  he  exclaims,  an  indoor 
Emperor,  who  considers  that  he  has  made  a  journey 
and  achieved  an  expedition  if  he  has  so  much  as  vis- 
ited the  Gardens  of  Sallust !  Whenever  he  addressed 
his  soldiers,  he  would  boast  that,  though  he  had  col- 
leagues in  the  Empire,  he  alone  was  the  real  Em- 
peror ;  for  he  ruled  while  they  kept  the  frontiers 
safe  and  did  his  fighting  for  him.  And  then  he 
would  dismiss  them  with  the  three  words:  '' Frui- 
mini  !  Dissipate  !  Prodigite  !  "  Such  an  invitation 
to  drunkenness,  riot,  and  debauch  would  not  be  un- 
welcome to  the  swaggering  Praetorians  and  to  the 
numerous  bands  of  mercenaries  which  Maxentius 
had  collected  from  all  parts  of  the  world. 

We  ought  not,  perhaps,  to  take  this  scathing  in- 
vective quite  literally.  For  all  his  vices,  Maxentius 
was  probably  not  quite  the  hopeless  debauchee  he 
is  represented  to  have  been.     It  is  at  least  worth 


The  Invasion  of  Italy  79 

remark  that  it  was  this  Emperor,  of  whom  no  one  has 
a  charitable  word  to  say,  who  restored  to  the  Christ- 
ians at  Rome  the  church  buildings  and  property 
which  had  been  confiscated  to  the  State  by  the 
edicts  of  Diocletian  and  Galerius.  Neither  Eusebius 
nor  Lactantius  mentions  this,  but  the  fact  is  clear 
from  a  passage  in  St.  Augustine,  who  says  that  the 
first  act  of  the  Roman  Christians  on  regaining  pos- 
session of  their  cemetery  was  to  bring  back  the  body 
of  Bishop  Eusebius,  who  had  died  in  exile  in  Sicily. 
Nor  did  Maxentius's  political  attitude  towards  the 
other  August!  betray  indications  of  incompetence  or 
want  of  will.  He  was  ambitious — a  trait  common 
to  most  Roman  Emperors  and  certainly  shared  by 
all  his  colleagues.  There  was  no  cohesion  among 
the  four  Augusti ;  there  was  no  one  much  superior 
to  the  others  in  influence  and  prestige.  Constan- 
tine  and  Maxentius  feared  and  suspected  each  other 
in  the  West,  just  as  Licinius  and  Maximin  Daza 
feared  and  suspected  each  other  in  the  East.  When 
the  two  latter  agreed  that  the  Hellespont  should  di- 
vide their  territories,  Licinius,  who  had  lost  Asia 
Minor  by  the  bargain,  made  overtures  of  alliance  to 
Constantine.  It  was  arranged  that  Licinius  should 
marry  Constantia,  the  sister  of  the  Augustus  of 
Gaul.  Naturally,  therefore,  Maximin  Daza  turned 
towards  Maxentius  and  sent  envoys  asking  for  alli- 
ance and  friendship.  Lactantius  adds  the  curious 
phrase  that  Maximin's  letter  was  couched  in  a  tone 
of  familiarity  *  and  says  that  Maxentius  was  as  eager 


Scribii  etiam  fatniliariter. 


8o  Constantine 

to  accept  as  Maximin  had  been  to  offer.  He  hailed 
it,  we  are  told,  as  a  god-sent  help,  for  he  had  already- 
declared  war  against  Constantine  on  the  pretext  of 
avenging  his  father's  murder. 

The  outbreak  of  this  war,  which  was  fraught  with 
such  momentous  consequences  to  the  whole  course 
of  civilisation,  found  the  Empire  strangely  divided. 
The  Emperor  of  Italy  and  Africa  was  allied  with  the 
Emperor  of  Egypt,  Syria,  and  Asia  Minor,  against 
the  rulers  of  the  armies  of  the  Danube  and  the 
Rhine.  We  shall  see  that  the  alliance  was — at  any 
rate,  in  result  —  defensive  rather  than  offensive. 
Licinius  and  Maximin  never  moved  ;  they  simply 
neutralised  one  another,  though  the  advantage  clearly 
lay  with  Constantine  and  Licinius,  for  Maxentius 
was  absolutely  isolated,  so  far  as  receiving  help  on 
the  landward  side  was  concerned.  We  need  not 
look  far  to  find  the  real  cause  of  quarrel  between 
Constantine  and  Maxentius,  whatever  pretexts  were 
assigned.  Maxentius  would  never  have  risked  his 
Empire  for  the  sake  of  a  father  whom  he  detested  ; 
nor  would  Constantine  have  jeopardised  his  throne 
in  order  to  avenge  an  insult.  Each  aspired  to  rule 
over  the  entire  West ;  neither  would  acquiesce  in 
the  pretensions  of  the  other.  Both  had  been  actively 
preparing  for  a  struggle  which  became  inevitable 
when  neither  took  any  radical  steps  to  avoid  it. 
We  have  already  seen  that  Constantine  kept  the 
larger  part  of  the  army  of  Gaul  stationed  in  the 
south  near  Arelate  and  Lugdunum,  in  order  to 
watch  the  Alpine  passes;  we  shall  find  that  Maxen- 
tius had  also  posted  his  main  armies  in  the  north 


The  Invasion  of  Italy  8i 

of  Italy  from  Susa  on  the  one  side,  where  he  was 
threatened  by  Constantine,  to  Venice  on  the  other, 
where  he  was  on  guard  against  Licinius.  There  is 
a  curious  reference  in  one  of  the  authorities  to  a 
plan  formed  by  Maxentius  of  invading  Gaul  through 
Rhaetia,  —  no  doubt  because  Constantine  had  made 
the  Alpine  passes  practically  unassailable,  —  while 
Lactantius  tells  us  that  he  had  drawn  every  avail- 
able man  from  Africa  to  swell  his  armies  in  Italy, 

Constantine  acted  with  the  extreme  rapidity  for 
which  he  was  already  famous.  He  hurried  his  army 
down  from  the  Rhine,  and  was  through  the  passes 
and  attacking  the  walled  city  of  Susa  before  Max- 
entius had  certain  knowledge  of  his  movements. 
That  he  was  embarking  on  an  exceedingly  hazardous 
expedition  seems  to  have  been  recognised  by  him- 
self and  his  captains.  The  author  of  the  Ninth 
Panegyric  says  quite  bluntly  that  his  principal  ofifi- 
cers  not  only  muttered  their  fears  in  secret,  but  ex- 
pressed them  openly,*  and  adds  that  his  councillors 
and  haruspices  warned  him  to  desist.  A  similar 
campaign  had  cost  Severus  his  life  and  had  been 
found  too  hazardous  even  by  Galerius.  Superiority 
of  numbers  lay  not  with  him,  but  with  his  rival. 
Constantine  was  gravely  handicapped  by  the  fact 
that  he  had  to  safeguard  the  Rhine  behind  him 
against  the  Germanic  tribes,  which  he  knew  would 
seize  the  first  opportunity  to  pass  the  river.  Zosi- 
mus    gives  a  detailed    account  f  of   the    numbers 


*  Non   solum  tacite  mussantibus   sed  eteiam  aperte  timeniibus. — 
Fan.   Vet.,  ix.,  2. 
\  Zosimus,  ii.,  15. 
6 


82  Constantine 

which  the  rivals  placed  in  the  field.  Maxentius,  he 
says,  had  170,000  foot  and  18,000  horse  under  his 
command,  including  80,000  levies  from  Rome  and 
Italy,  and  40,000  from  Carthage  and  Africa.  Con- 
stantine, on  the  other  hand,  even  after  vigorous  re- 
cruiting in  Britain  and  Gaul,  could  only  muster 
90,000  foot  and  8000  horse.  The  author  of  the 
Ninth  Panegyric,  in  a  casual  phrase,  says  that  Con- 
stantine could  hardly  employ  a  fourth  of  his  Gallic 
army  against  the  100,000  men  in  the  ranks  of  Max- 
entius, on  account  of  the  dangers  of  the  Rhine. 
Ancient  authorities,  however,  are  never  trustworthy 
where  numbers  are  concerned  ;  we  only  know  that 
Maxentius  had  by  far  the  larger  force,  and  that 
Constantine's  army  of  invasion  was  probably  under 
40,000  strong.  Whether  the  numerical  supremacy 
of  the  former  was  not  counterbalanced  by  the  neces- 
sity under  which  Maxentius  laboured  of  guarding 
against  Licinius,  is  a  question  to  which  the  histori- 
ans have  paid  no  heed. 

Marching  along  the  chief  military  highroad  from 
Lugdunum  to  Italy,  which  crossed  the  Alps  at  Mont 
Cenis,  Constantine  suddenly  appeared  before  the 
walls  of  Susa,  a  strongly  garrisoned  post,  and  took 
it  by  storm,  escalading  the  walls  and  burning  the 
gates.  The  town  caught  fire ;  Constantine  set  his 
soldiers  to  put  out  the  flames,  a  more  difficult  task, 
says  Nazarius,  than  had  been  the  actual  assault. 
From  Susa  the  victor  advanced  to  Turin,  which 
opened  its  gates  to  him  after  the  cavalry  of  Max- 
entius had  been  routed  in  the  plains.  These  were 
troops   clad  in  ponderous  but   cleverly  jointed   ar- 


The  Invasion  of  Italy  83 

mour,  and  the  weight  of  their  onslaught  was  calcu- 
lated to  crush  either  horse  or  foot  upon  which  it 
was  directed.  But  Constantine  disposed  his  forces 
so  as  to  avoid  their  charge  and  render  their  weight 
useless,  and  when  these  horsemen  fled  for  shelter  to 
Turin  they  found  the  gates  closed  against  them  and 
perished  almost  to  a  man.  Milan,  by  far  the  most 
important  city  in  the  Transpadane  region,  next  re- 
ceived Constantine,  who  entered  amid  the  plaudits 
of  the  citizens,  and  charmed  the  eyes  of  the  Milan- 
ese ladies,  says  the  Panegyrist,  without  causing  them 
anxieties  for  their  virtue.  Milan,  indeed,  welcomed 
him  with  open  arms ;  other  cities  sent  deputations 
similar  to  the  one  which,  according  to  the  epitomist 
Zonaras,  had  already  reached  him  from  Rome  itself, 
praying  him  to  come  as  its  liberator.  It  seemed, 
indeed,  that  he  had  already  won  not  only  the  Trans- 
padane region,  but  Rome  itself.* 

Constantine,  however,  had  still  to  meet  and  over- 
throw the  chief  armies  of  Maxentius  in  the  north  of 
Italy.  These  were  under  the  command  of  Ruricius 
Pompeianus,  a  general  as  stubborn  as  he  was  loyal, 
and  of  well-tried  capacity.  Pompeianus  held  Verona 
in  force.  He  had  thrown  out  a  large  body  of  cavalry 
towards  Brescia  to  reconnoitre  and  check  Constan- 
tine's  advance,  but  these  were  routed  with  some 
slaughter  and  retired  in  confusion.  If  we  may  in- 
terpret the  presence  of  Pompeianus  at  Verona  as 
indicating  that  Maxentius  had  feared  attack  by 
Licinius    more    than    by  Constantine,   this    would 


Pan.  Vet.,  ix.,  7. 


84  Constantine 

explain  the  comparative  absence  of  troops  in  Lom- 
bardy  and  the  concentration  in  Venetia,  though  it  is 
strange  that  we  do  not  hear  of  Licinius  taking  any 
steps  to  assist  his  ally.  Verona  was  a  strongly  forti- 
fied city  resting  upon  the  Adige,  which  encircled  its 
walls  for  three-quarters  of  their  circumference.  Con- 
stantine managed  to  effect  a  crossing  at  some 
distance  from  the  city  and  laid  siege  in  regular 
fashion.  Pompeianus  tried  several  ineffectual  sor- 
ties, and  then,  secretly  escaping  through  the  lines, 
he  brought  up  the  rest  of  his  army  to  offer  pitched 
battle  or  compel  Constantine  to  raise  the  siege.  A 
fierce  engagement  followed.  We  are  told*  that 
Constantine  had  drawn  up  his  men  in  double  Hnes, 
when,  noticing  that  the  enemy  outnumbered  him 
and  threatened  to  overlap  either  flank,  he  ordered 
his  troops  to  extend  and  present  a  wider  front.  He 
distinguished  himself  that  day  by  pressing  into  the 
thickest  of  the  fight,  "  like  a  mountain  torrent  in 
spate  that  tears  away  by  their  roots  the  trees  on  its 
banks  and  rolls  down  rocks  and  stones."  The  orator 
depicts  for  us  the  scene  as  Constantine's  lieutenants 
and  captains  receive  him  on  his  return  from  the  fray, 
panting  with  his  exertion  and  with  blood  dripping 
from  his  hands.  With  tears  in  their  eyes,  they  chide 
him  for  his  rashness  in  imperilling  the  hopes  of  the 
world.  "  It  does  not  beseem  an  Emperor,"  they 
say,  "  to  strike  down  an  enemy  with  his  own 
sword.  It  does  not  become  him  to  sweat  with  the 
toil  of  battle.f  "  In  simpler  language,  Constantine 
fought  bravely  at  the  head  of  his  men  and  won  the 
*  Pan.  Vet.,  ix.,  9.  \  Immo  non  decet  laborare. 


The  Invasion  of  Italy  85 

day.  Pompeianus  was  slain ;  Verona  opened  her 
gates,  and  so  many  prisoners  fell  into  the  hands  of 
the  conqueror  that  Constantine  made  his  armourers 
forge  chains  and  manacles  from  the  iron  of  the  cap- 
tives' swords.  In  accordance  with  his  usual  policy, 
he  conciliated  the  favour  of  those  whom  he  had  de- 
feated by  sparing  the  city  from  pillage,  and  shewed 
an  equal  clemency  to  Aquileia  and  the  other  cities 
of  Venetia,  all  of  which  speedily  submitted  on  the 
capitulation  of  Verona. 

With  the  entire  north  of  Italy  thus  wrested  from 
Maxentius,  Constantine  could  turn  his  face  towards 
Rome.  He  encountered  no  opposition  on  the  march. 
Maxentius  did  not  even  contest  the  passage  oi  the 
Apennines  ;  the  Umbrian  passes  were  left  open  ;  and 
if  the  historians  are  to  be  trusted — and  they  speak 
with  unanimity  on  the  point — the  Italian  Emperor 
simply  waited  for  his  doom  to  come  upon  him,  as 
Nero  had  done,  and  made  no  really  serious  effort  to 
defend  his  throne.  This  slave  in  the  purple  {vermda 
purpuratus),  as  the  author  of  the  Ninth  Panegyric 
calls  him,  cowered  trembling  in  his  palace,  paralysed 
with  fear  because  he  had  been  deserted  by  the  Di- 
vine Intelligence  and  the  Eternal  Majesty  of  Rome, 
which  had  transferred  themselves  from  the  tyrant 
to  the  side  of  his  rival.  We  are  told,  indeed,  that  a 
few  days  before  the  appearance  of  Constantine,  Max- 
entius quitted  the  palace  with  his  wife  and  son  and 
took  up  his  abode  in  a  private  house,  not  being  able 
to  endure  the  terrible  dreams  that  came  to  him  by 
night  and  the  spectres  of  the  victims  which  haunted 
his  crime-stained  halls.     Constantine  moved  swiftly 


86  Constantine 

down  from  the  north  of  Italy  along  the  Flaminian 
Way,  and  in  less  than  two  months  after  the  fall  of 
Verona,  he  was  at  Saxa  Rubra,  only  nine  miles  from 
Rome,  with  an  army  eager  for  battle  and  confident 
of  victory.  There  he  found  the  troops  of  Maxentius 
drawn  up  in  battle  array,  but  posted  in  a  position 
which  none  but  a  fool  or  a  madman  would  have  se- 
lected. The  probabilities  are  that  Maxentius  could 
not  trust  the  citizens  of  Rome  and  therefore  dared 
not  stand  a  siege  within  the  ramparts  of  Aurelian. 
Then,  having  decided  to  offer  battle,  he  allowed  his 
army  to  cross  the  Tiber  and  take  up  ground  whence, 
if  defeated,  their  only  roads  of  escape  lay  over  the 
narrow  Milvian  Bridge  and  a  flimsy  bridge  of  boats, 
one  probably  on  either  flank. 

It  is  said  that  Maxentius  had  not  intended  to  be 
present  in  person  when  the  issue  was  decided.  He 
was  holding  festival  within  the  city,  celebrating  his 
birthday  with  the  usual  games  and  pretending  that 
the  proximity  of  Constantine  caused  him  no  alarm. 
The  populace  began  to  taunt  him  with  cowardice, 
and  uttered  the  ominous  shout  that  Constantine  was 
invincible.  Maxentius's  fears  grew  as  the  clamour 
swelled  in  volume.  He  hurriedly  called  for  the 
Sibylline  Books  and  ordered  them  to  be  consulted. 
These  gave  answer  that  on  that  very  day  the  enemy 
of  the  Romans  should  perish — a  characteristically 
safe  reply.  Such  ambiguity  of  diction  had  usually 
portended  the  death  of  the  consulting  Prince,  but 
Lactantius  says  that  the  hopes  with  which  the 
words  inspired  Maxentius  led  him  to  put  on  his 
armour  and  ride  out  of  Rome. 


m 


The  Invasion  of  Italy  87 

The  issue  was  decided  at  the  first  encounter. 
Constantine  charged  at  the  head  of  his  GalHc  horse 
— now  accustomed  to  and  certain  of  victory — into 
the  cavalry  of  Maxentius,  which  broke  and  ran 
in  disorder  from  the  field.  Only  the  Praetorians 
made  a  gallant  and  stubborn  resistance  and  fell 
where  they  had  stood,  knowing  that  it  was  they 
who  had  raised  Maxentius  to  the  throne  and  that 
their  destruction  was  involved  in  his.  While  these 
fought  valiantly  with  the  courage  of  despair,  their 
comrades  were  crowding  in  panic  towards  the  al- 
ready choked  bridges.  At  the  Milvian  Bridge  the 
passage  was  jammed,  and  the  pursuers  wrought  great 
execution.  The  pontoon  bridge  collapsed,  owing  to 
the  treachery  of  those  who  had  cut  or  loosened  its 
supports.  All  the  reports  agree  that  there  was  a 
sickening  slaughter,  and  that  hundreds  were  drowned 
in  the  Tiber  in  their  vain  effort  to  escape.  Among 
the  victims  was  Maxentius  himself.  He  was  either 
thrust  into  the  river  by  the  press  of  frenzied  fugi- 
tives or  was  drowned  in  trying  to  scale  the  high 
bank  on  the  opposite  shore,  when  weighed  down  by 
his  heavy  armour.  His  corpse  was  recovered  later 
from  the  stream,  which  the  Panegyrists  hailed  in 
ecstatic  terms  as  the  co-saviour  of  Rome  with  Con- 
stantine and  the  partner  of  his  triumph.* 

The  victor  entered  Rome.  He  had  won  the  prize 
which  he  sought — the  mastery  of  the  West— and, 
like  scores  of  Roman  conquerors  before  him,  he 
marched    through    the    famous    streets.      His    tri- 


*  Pan.   Vet.,  ix.,  i8. 


88  Constantine 

umphal  procession  was  graced,  says  Nazarius,  not 
by  captive  chiefs  or  barbarians  in  chains,  but  by 
senators  who  now  tasted  the  joy  of  freedom  again, 
and  by  consulars  whose  prison  doors  had  been 
opened  by  Constantine's  victory — in  a  word,  by  a 
Free  Rome.  *  Only  the  head  of  Maxentius,  whose 
features  still  wore  the  savage,  threatening  look  which 
even  death  itself  had  not  been  able  to  obliterate, 
was  carried  on  the  point  of  a  spear  behind  Constan- 
tine amid  the  jeers  and  insults  of  the  crowd.  An- 
other Panegyrist  gives  us  a  very  lively  picture  of  the 
throngs  as  they  waited  for  the  Emperor  to  pass, 
describing  how  they  crowded  at  the  rear  of  the  pro- 
cession and  swept  up  to  the  palace,  almost  venturing 
to  cross  the  sacred  threshold  itself,  and  how,  when 
Constantine  appeared  in  the  streets  on  the  succeed- 
ing days,  they  sought  to  unhorse  his  carriage  and 
draw  it  along  with  their  hands.  One  of  the  con- 
queror's first  acts  was  to  extirpate  the  family  of  his 
fallen  rival.  Maxentius's  elder  son,  Romulus,  who 
for  a  short  time  had  borne  the  name  of  Caesar,  was 
already  dead  ;  the  younger  son,  and  probably  the  wife 
too,  were  now  quietly  removed.  There  were  other 
victims,  who  had  committed  themselves  too  deeply  to 
Maxentius'  fortunes  to  escape.  Rome,  says  Naza- 
rius,f  was  reconstituted  afresh  on  a  lasting  basis  by 
the  complete  destruction  of  those  who  might  have 
given  trouble.  But  still  the  victims  were  compara- 
tively few,  so  few,  in  the  estimation  of  public  opinion, 
that  the  victory  was  regarded  as  a  bloodless  one,  and 


*  Pan.  Vet.,  x.,  31.  t  J'l'i'^-y  x.,  6. 


The  Invasion  of  Italy  89 

Constantine's  clemency  was  the  theme  and  admira- 
tion of  all.  When  the  people  clamoured  for  more 
victims — doubtless  the  most  hated  instruments  of 
Maxentius's  tyranny — and  when  the  informer  pressed 
forward  to  offer  his  deadly  services,  Constantine  re- 
fused to  listen.  He  was  resolved  to  let  bygones  be 
bygones.  The  laws  of  the  period  immediately  suc- 
ceeding his  victory,  as  they  appear  in  the  Theodosian 
Code,  amply  confirm  what  might  otherwise  be  the 
suspect  eulogies  of  the  Panegyrists.  A  general  act 
of  amnesty  was  passed,  and  the  ghastly  head  of 
Maxentius  was  sent  to  Africa  to  allay  the  terrors  of 
the  population  and  convince  them  that  their  op- 
pressor would  trouble  them  no  more.  There,  it  is 
to  be  supposed,  it  found  a  final  burial-place. 

Another  early  act  of  Constantine  was  to  disband 
the  Praetorians,  thus  carrying  out  the  intention  and 
decrees  of  Galerius,  The  survivors  of  these  long- 
famous  regiments  were  marched  out  of  Rome  away 
from  the  Circus,  the  Theatre  of  Pompeius,  and  the 
Baths,  and  were  set  to  do  their  share  in  the  guarding 
of  the  Rhine  and  the  Danube.  Whether  they  bore 
the  change  as  voluntarily  as  the  Panegyrist  suggests  * 
is  doubtful,  and  we  may  question  whether  they  so 
soon  forgot  in  their  rude  cantonments  the  fleshpots 
and  "  delicicB  "  of  the  capital.  But  the  expulsion  was 
final.  The  Praetorians  ceased  to  exist.  Rome  may 
have  been  glad  to  see  the  empty  barracks,  for  the 
Praetorians  had  been  hated  and  feared.  But  the 
vacant  quarters  also  spoke  eloquently  of  the  fact 


*  Fan.  Vet.,  ix.,  2i. 


90  Constantine 

that  Rome  was  no  longer  the  mistress  of  the  world. 
The  "  do mina gentium,''  the  "  rcgina  terrariim,''  with- 
out her  Praetorians,  was  a  thing  unthinkable. 

Constantine  only  stayed  two  months  in  Rome, 
but  in  that  short  time,  says  Nazarius,  he  cured  all 
the  maladies  which  the  six  years'  savage  tyranny  of 
Maxentius  had  brought  upon  the  city.  He  restored 
to  their  confiscated  estates  all  who  had  been  exiled 
or  deprived  of  their  property  during  the  recent  reign 
of  terror.  He  shewed  himself  easy  of  approach ;  his 
ears  were  the  most  patient  of  listeners ;  he  charmed 
all  by  his  kindliness,  dignity,  and  good  humour. 
To  the  Senate  he  shewed  unwonted  deference. 
Diocletian,  during  his  solitary  visit  to  Rome  just 
prior  to  his  retirement,  had  treated  the  senators 
with  brusqueness,  and  hardly  concealed  his  contempt 
for  their  mouldy  dignities.  Constantine  preferred  to 
conciliate  them.  According  to  Nazarius,  he  invested 
with  senatorial  rank  a  number  of  representative  pro- 
vincials, so  that  the  Senate  once  more  became  a 
dignified  body  in  reality  as  well  as  in  name,  now 
that  it  consisted  of  the  flower  of  the  whole  world.  * 
Probably  this  signifies  little  more  than  that  Constan- 
tine filled  up  the  vacancies  with  respectable  nom- 
inees, spoke  the  Senate  fair,  and  swore  to  maintain 
its  ancient  rights  and  privileges.  The  Emperor 
certainly  entertained  no  such  quixotic  idea  as  that 
of  giving  the  Senate  a  vestige  of  real  governing 
power  or  a  share  in  the  administration  of  the  Em- 
pire.    In  return   for  his  consideration,  the  Senate 


*  Cufii  ex  totius  orbis  fiore  constaret. 


^^     o 


The  Invasion  of  Italy  91 

bestowed  upon  him  the  title  of  Senior  Augustus, 
and  a  golden  statue,  adorned,  according  to  the  Ninth 
Panegyrist  (c.  25),  with  the  attributes  of  a  god,  while 
all  Italy  subscribed  for  the  shield  and  the  crown. 

The  Senate  also  instituted  games  and  festivals  in 
honour  of  Constantine's  victory,  and  voted  him  the 
triumphal  arch  which  still  survives  as  one  of  the 
most  imposing  ruins  of  Imperial  Rome  and  a  last- 
ing monument  to  the  outrageous  vandalism  which 
stripped  the  Arch  of  Titus  of  its  sculptures  to  grace 
the  memorial  of  his  successor.  Under  the  central  arch 
on  the  one  side  is  the  dedication,  "To  the  Liberator 
of  the  City,"  on  the  other,  "To  the  Founder  of 
Our  Repose  "  {Fiindatori  qiiietis).  Above  stands  the 
famous  inscription*  in  which  the  Senate  and  people 
of  Rome  dedicate  this  triumphal  arch  to  Constan- 
tine  "because,  at  the  suggestion  of  the  divinity 
{instinctu  divinitatis),  and  at  the  prompting  of  his 
own  magnanimity,  he  and  his  army  had  vindicated 
the  Republic  by  striking  down  the  tyrant  and  all  his 
satellites  at  a  single  blow."  "At  the  suggestion  of 
the  divinity !  "  The  words  lead  us  naturally  to  dis- 
cuss the  conversion  of  Constantine  and  the  Vision  of 
the  Cross. 


*  The  inscription  on  the  Arch  of  Constantine  runs  as  follows : 
"  Imp.  Cess.  Fl.  Constantino  Maximo 
P.  F.  Augusto  S.  P.  Q.  R. 
Quod  insiinctu  divinitatis  mentis 

Magnitudine  cum  exercitu  suo 
Tam  de  tyranno  quam  de  omni  ejus 

Factione  uno  tempore  justis 
Rempublicam  ultus  est  armis 

Arcum  triumphis  insignem  dicavit.'" 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE    VISION    OF    THE    CROSS    AND    THE    EDICT    OF 

MILAN 

/IT  was  during  the  course  of  the  successful  invasion 
\  1     of  Italy,  which  culminated  in  the  battle  of  the 
Milvian  Bridge  and  the  capture  of  Rome,  that  there 
/took   place  —  or   was   said   to    have  taken  place  — 
(    the  famous  vision  of  the  cross,  surrounded  by  the 
\\words,  "  Conquer  by  This,"  which  accompanied  the 
j  triumph  of  Constantine's  arms.  NThere  are  two  main 
■s  authorities  for  the  legend,  Eusebius  and  LactantiuS, 
/both,    of    course.    Christians    an3~  uncompromising 
(  champions  of  Constanttnev  "wtth  whom  they  were  in 
'^ose  personal  contact. \  A  third,  though  he  makes 
no  mention  of  the  cross,  is  Nazarius,  the  author  of 
the  Tenth  Panegyric.     The  variations  which  subse- 
quent writers  introduce  into  the  story  relate  merely 
to   details,  or   are    obvious   embroideries   upon   an 
original  legend,  such,  for  example,  as  the  statement 
of  Philostorgius  that  the  words  of  promise  around 
the    cross    were    written   in    stars.     We   need    not 
trouble,  therefore,  with  the  much  later  versions  of 
Sozomen,  Socrates,  Gregory  of  Nazianzen,  and  Nice- 
phorus;  it  will  be  enough  to  study  the  more  or  less 
92 


The  Vision  of  the  Cross  93 

contemporary  statements  of  Eusebius,  Lactantius, 
and  Nazarius.  And  of  these  by  far  the  fullest  and 
most  important  is  that  of  Eusebius,  Bishop  of  Caes- 
area,  who '"explicitly  declares  that  he  is  repeating  J 
the  story  as  it  was  told  to  him  by  Constantine 
himself. 

Eusebius  shews  us  the  Emperor  of  Gaul  anxiously 
debating  within  his  own  mind  whether  his  forces 
were  equal  to  the  dangerous  enterprise  upon  which 
he  had  embarked.  Maxentius  had  a  formidable 
army.  He  had  also  laboured  to  bring  over  to  his 
side  the  powers  of  heaven  and  hell.  Constantine's 
information  from  Rome  apprised  him  that  Maxen- 
tius  was  assiduously  employing  all  the  black  arts  of 
magic  and  wizardry  to  gain  the  favour  of  the  gods. 
And  Constantine  grew  uneasy  and  apprehensive,  for 
no  one  then  disbelieved  in  the  efficacy  of  magic,  and 
he  considered  whether  he  might  not  counterbalance 
this  undue  advantage  which  Maxentius  was  obtain- 
ing by  securing  the  protecting  services  of  some 
equally  potent  deity.  Such  is  the  only  possible 
meaning  of  Eusebius's  words,  svvoei  6r}ra  onoiov 
dioi  diov  STtiypaipaffdai  /Sot^Oov — words  which  seem 
strange  in  the  twentieth  century,  but  were  natural 
enough  in  the  fourth.  "  He  thought  in  his  own 
mind  what  sort  of  god  he  ought  to  secure  as  ally.'!/ 
''And  then,  says  his  biographer,  the  idea  occurred  to 
him  that  though  his  predecessors  in  the  purple  had 
ibelieved  in  a  multiplicity  of  gods,  the  great  majority 
'of  them  had  perished  miserably.  The  gods,  at 
whose  altars  they  had  offered  rich  sacrifice  and 
plenteous  libation,  had  deserted  them  in  their  hour 


94  Constantine 

/of  trouble,  and  had  looked  on  unmoved  while  they 
\and  their  families  were  exterminated  from  off  the 
Mace  of  the  earth,  leaving  scarcely  so  much  as  a 
/name  or  a  recollection  behind  them.  The  gods  had 
cheated  them  and  lured  them  to  their  doom  with 
suave  promises  of  treacherous  oracles.  Whereas,  on 
the  other  hand,  his  father,  Constantius,  had  believed 
in  but  one  god,  and  had  marvellously  prospered 
throughout  his  life,  helped  and  protected  by  this 
single  deity  who  had  showered  every  blessing  upon 
his  head.  From  such  a  contrast,  what  other  deduc- 
tion could  be  drawn  than  that  the  god  of  Constan- 
tius was  the  deity  for  Constantius's  son  to  honour? 
Constantine  resolved  that  it  would  be  folly  to  waste 
time  or  thought  upon  deities  who  were  of  no  account 
(Ttepi  rov?  jur^dev  ovra?  dsov?).  He  would  worship 
no  other  god  than  the  god  of  his  father. 

Such,  according  to  Eusebius,  is  the  first  pha^e  of 
(the  Emperor's  conversion,  a  conviction  not  of  sin, 
|but  of  the  folly  of  worshipping  gods  who  cannot  or 
will  not  do  anything  for  their  votaries.  But  this 
god  of  his  father,  this  single  unnamed  divinity,  who 
was  it  ?  Was  it  one  of  the  gods  of  the  Roman  Pan- 
theon, Jupiter,  or  Apollo,  or  Hercules,  whose  special 
protection  Constantine  had  claimed  for  himself,  as 
Augustus  had  claimed  that  of  Apollo,  and  Diocle- 

Itian  that  of  Jupiter?  Or  was  it  the  vague  spirit  of 
deity  itself,  the  to  deiov  of  the  Greek  philosophers, 
the  divinitas  of  the  cultured  Roman,  whose  delicacy 
was  offended  by  the  grossness  of  the  exceedingly 
human  passions  of  the  Roman  gods  and  goddesses? 
Obviously,  it  must  be  the  latter,  and  Eusebius  tells 


The  Vision  of  the  Cross  95 

^us  that  Constantine  offered  up  a  prayer  to  this  god 
lof  his  father,  beseeching  him,"  to  declare  himself  who 
he  was,"  and  to  stretch  forth  his  right  hand' to  help. 
To  declare  himself  who  he  was  !  "  {cpTjvai  avrc^ 
"iavTov  oari?  si'tf).  That  had  ever  been  the  stum- 
bhng-block  in  the  way  of  the  acceptance  by  the 
masses  of  the  immaterial  principles  propounded  by 
the  philosophers.  Constantine  must  have  a  god  with 
a  name,  and  he  must  have  a  sign  from  heaven  in 
visible  proof.  Many  have  asked  for  such  a  si^ 
just  as  importunately  {\i7tapc5?  ihstsvovti)  as  Con- 
stantine, but  without  success.  To  him  it  was 
vouchsafed. 

The  answer  came  one  afternoon,  when  the  su^i 
had  just  passed  its  zenith  and  was  beginning  to  de- 
cline.     Lifting  his  eyes,  the   Emperor  saw  in  the 
heavens  just  above  the  sun  the  figure  of  a  cross,  a 
cross  of  radiant  light,  and  attached  to  it  was  the  in- 
/scription,  "  Conquer  by  This  "  {rovTcp  vina).     Euse- 
{  bius  admits  that  if  any  one  else  had  told  the  story  it 
J  would  not  have  been  easy  to  believe  it,  but  it  was  told 
yto  him  by  the  Emperor  himself,  who  had  confirmed 
(  his  words  with  a  royal  oath.     How  then  was  it  pos- 
sible to  doubt  ?     Constantine  was  awe-struck  at  the 
vision,  which  Eusebius  expressly  declares  was  seen 
also  by  the  entire  army.     All  that  afternoon  the 
Emperor   pondered  long  upon  the   significance  of 
the  words,  and  night  fell  while  he  was  still  asking 
himself  what  they  could  mean.     Then,  as  he  slept,^ 
Christ  appeared  to  him   in  a  dream,  bearing  with' 
Him  the  sign  that  had  flamed  in  the  sky,  and  bade 
the  sleeper  make  a  copy  of  it  and  use  it  as  a  talis-' 


96  Constantine 

man  whenever  he  gave  battle.  As  soon  as  dawn 
broke,  Constantine  summoned  his  friends  and  told 
them  of  the  message  he  had  received.  Workers  in 
gold  and  precious  stones  were  hastily  sent  for,  and, 
sitting  in  the  midst  of  them,  Constantine  carefully 
described  the  outline  of  the  vision  and  bade  them 
execute  a  replica  of  it  in  their  most  precious  mate- 
rials. This  was  the  famous  Labarum,  fashioned 
from  a  long  gilded  spear  and  a  transverse  bar. 
Above  was  a  crown  of  gold,  with  jewels  encircling 
the  monogram  of  Christ,  and  from  the  bar  depended 
a  rich  purple  cloth,  heavily  embroidered  with  gold, 
blazing  with  jewels,  and  bearing  the  busts  of  Con- 
stantine and  his  sons.  It  suggested  the  Cross  just 
as  much  but  no  more  than  did  the  ordinary  cavalry 
standards  of  the  Roman  armies;  the  sacred  mono- 
gram alone  indicated  the  supreme  change  which 
had  come  over  the  Emperor,  who,  in  answer  to  his 
prayer,  had  thus  found  that  the  single  Deity  which 
his  father,  Constantius,  had  worshipped  was  none 
other  than  Christ,  the  God  of  the  Christians.  For 
the  Emperor,  desiring  to  know  more  of  the  Cross 
and  the  Christ,  summoned  certain  Christian  teachers 
in  his  camp  to  explain  these  things  more  fully  to 
him,  and  they  told  him  that  "Christ  was  God,  the 
only  begotten  Son  of  the  one  true  God,  and  that 
the  vision  he  had  seen  was  the  symbol  of  immortal- 
ity and  of  the  victory  which  Christ  had  won  over 
^death."  Such,  according  to  Eusebius,  was  the  con- 
version of  Constantine,  and  such  was  the  Emperor's 
own  account  of  the  circumstances  which  led  up  to 
it.     This  was  the   official  story,  as  it  might  have 


The  Vision  of  the  Cross  97 

appeared   in  a  Roman  Court   Circular  at  the  time 
when  Eusebius  wrote. 

But  when  did  Eusebius  write  The  Life  of  Constan- 
tine,  from  which  we  have  taken  this  narrative  ?  Not 
until  Constantine  himself  was  dead,  not,  that  is  to 
say,  until  after  337,  fully  a  quarter  of  a  century  after 
the  event  described.  The  date  is  important.  In 
twenty-five  years  a  story  may  be  transfigured  out  of 
all  knowledge  through  constant  repetition  by  the 
narrator,  to  say  nothing  of  the  changes  it  suffers  if 
it  passes  in  active  circulation  from  mouth  to  mouth. 
Has  this  been  the  fate  of  the  story  of  the  Vision  of 
the  Cross?  The  Life  of  Constantine  was  not  the 
first  volume  of  contemporary  history  published  by 
Eusebius.  He  had  already  written  a  History  of  the 
Church,  which  he  issued  to  the  world  in  326.  What, 
then,  had  the  author  to  say  in  that  year  about  this 
marvellous  vision  ?  Nothing,  There  is  not  a  word 
about  the  flaming  cross,  or  the  coming  of  Christ  to 
Constantine  in  a  dream,  or  the  fashioning  of  the  La- 
barum.  All  Eusebius  says,  in  his  History,  of  the 
conversion  of  Constantine,  is  that  the  Emperor 
"piously  called  to  his  aid  the  God  of  Heaven  and 
his  son  Jesus  Christ."  It  is  a  strange  silence. 
If  the  heavenly  cross  had  been  seen  by  the  whole 
army ;  if  the  current  version  of  the  story  had  been 
the  same  in  326  as  it  was  in  337,  it  is  at  least  diffi- 
cult to  understand  why  Eusebius  omitted  all  men- 
tion of  an  event  which  must  have  been  the  talk  of 
the  whole  Roman  world  and  must  have  made  the 
heart  of  every  Christian  exult.  Such  manifest  signs 
from  Heaven  were  scarcely  so  common  in  the  open- 


98  Constantine 

ing  of  the  fourth  century  that  an  ecclesiastical  his- 
torian would  think  any  allusion  to  it  unnecessary. 
The  argument  from  silence  is  never  absolutely  con- 
clusive, but  the  reticence  of  Eusebius  in  326  at  least 
warrants  a  strong  suspicion  that  the  legend  had  not 
then  crystallised  itself  into  its  final  shape. 

Of  even  greater  importance  are  the  extraordinary 
discrepancies  between  the  versions  of  Eusebius  and 
Lactantius.  Lactantius  wrote  his  treatise  Oti  the 
Deaths  of  the  Persecutors  very  shortly  after  the  battle 
of  the  Milvian  Bridge,  and  it  has  a  special  value, 
therefore,  as  containing  the  earliest  account  of  the 
vision.  The  author,  who  was  the  tutor  of  the  Em- 
peror's son,  Crispus,  must  have  known  all  there  was 
to  be  known  of  the  incident,  for  he  lived  in  the  closest 
intimacy  with  the  court  circle.  We  should  con- 
fidently expect,  therefore,  that  the  author  who  retails 
Verbatim  the  conversation  of  Diocletian  and  Galerius 
in  the  penetralia  of  the  palace  of  Nicomedia  would 
be  fully  aware  of  what  took  place  in  full  view  of 
Constantine's  army. 

What  then  is  the  version  of  Lactantius  ?  It  is 
that  just  before  the  battle  of  the  Milvian  Bridge, 
Constantine  was  warned  in  a  dream  to  have  the 
divine  sign  of  the  cross  {ccsleste  signuvi)  inscribed  on 
the  shields  of  his  soldiers  before  leading  them  to  the 
attack.  He  did  as  he  was  bidden,  and  the  letter  X, 
with  one  of  the  bars  slightly  bent — thus,  -f-  — to 
form  the  sacred  monogram,  was  placed  upon  his 
legionaries'  shields.  Such  is  the  legend  in  its  earliest 
guise.  There  is  not  a  word  about  Constantine's 
anxiety  and  searching  of  soul.     The  event  is  placed, 


The  Vision  of  the  Cross  99 

not  at  the  opening  of  the  campaign,  as  Eusebius 
would  seem  to  suggest  though  he  does  not  expressly 
say  so,  but  on  the  eve  of  the  decisive  battle.  There 
is  nothing  about  the  cross  flaming  in  the  afternoon 
sky,  nothing  of  the  inscription,  "  Conquer  by  This," 
nothing  of  the  entire  army  being  witness  of  the  por- 
tent. Constantine  simply  has  a  dream  and  is 
warned  {commonitiis)  to  place  the  initial  of  Christ  on 
his  soldiers'  shields.  It  is  not  even  said  who  gave 
the  warning;  there  is  not  a  hint  that  it  was  Christ 
Himself — as  in  the  story  of  Eusebius — who  ap- 
peared to  Constantine;  there  is  no  mention  of  the 
Labarum.  Obviously,  Lactantius  was  aware  of 
no  triumphant  answer  to  Constantine's  prayer  for 
a  sign.  According  to  him,  the  Emperor  was  merely 
warned  in  a  dream  that  victory  would  reward  him 
if  he  dedicated  his  weapons  to  the  honour  and 
service  of  Christ. 

We  come  back,  therefore,  to  the  official  version 
of  Eusebius  somewhat  shaken  in  our  belief  of  its  lit- 
eral accuracy.  Let  us  note,  too,  the  extreme  vague- 
ness of  the  time  and  the  place  where  the  incident  is 
reported  to  have  taken  place,  and  remember  that  one 
who  had  dwelt  with  Diocletian  and  Galerius  when 
they  signed  the  edicts  of  persecution  could  not 
possibly  have  been  ignorant  of  the  principles  of 
Christianity,  which  was  no  longer  the  religion  of 
an  obscure  sect.  We  need  not,  indeed,  find  any 
difficulty  in  accepting  the  first  part  of  the  story 
of  Eusebius  in  so  far  as  it  represents  Constantine 
anxiously  enquiring  after  divine  protection.  It 
has  been  urged,  very  shrewdly,  that  the  story  would 


loo  Constantine 

have  been  idealised  if  it  had  been  altogether  in- 
vented. Constantine  was  afraid  that  he  had  rashly 
committed  himself  and  that  Maxentius  had  already 
secured  the  favour  of  the  Roman  gods.  His  ob- 
jective, too,  was  Rome,  still  regarded  with  super- 
stitious dread  and  reverence  throughout  the  world, 
and  reverenced  all  the  more,  no  doubt,  in  proportion 
as  distance  lent  enchantment  to  the  view.  What 
then  more  natural  than  that  he  should  take  for 
granted  that,  if  ever  the  gods  of  Rome  had  inter- 
fered in  mortal  affairs,  they  would  do  so  now  on 
behalf  of  Maxentius,  who  had  been  raised  to  empire 
as  Rome's  champion  ?  Constantine  was  not  one  of 
those  rarer  and  choicer  spirits,  who  seek  truth  for 
its  own  sake  without  regard  for  material  advantage. 
Conversion  in  his  case  did  not  mean  some  sudden 
or  even  gradual  change  permanently  altering  his 
outlook  upon  life,  and  refining  and  transmuting 
personal  character.  It  merely  meant  worshipping 
at  another  shrine,  entering  another  temple,  reciting 
another  formula.  His  ruling  motive  was  ambition. 
He  would  worship  the  god  who  should  bring  vic- 
tory to  his  arms.  The  intensity  of  his  conviction 
was  to  be  measured  by  the  extent  of  his  success 
and  by  the  height  to  which  he  carried  his  fortunes. 

But  what  of  the  second  part  of  the  story — the  vis- 
ion of  the  cross  flaming  in  the  sky  in  full  view  of 
Constantine  and  his  army  ?  Even  those  who  admit 
miracles  into  critical  history  allow  that  the  evidence 
for  this  one  is  exceedingly  inconclusive.  We  need 
not  doubt  that  Eusebius  related  the  story  just  as  it 
was  told  to  him  by  Constantine,  though  the  Bishop, 


The  Vision  of  the  Cross  loi 

if  there  were  choice  of  versions,  would  unhesita- 
tingly accept  the  one  which  contained  most  of  the 
miraculous  and  the  abnormal.  Nor  does  the  oath 
which  Constantine  swore  in  support  of  his  story  add 
anything  to  its  credibility.  It  was  his  habit  to  swear 
an  oath  when  he  wished  to  be  emphatic.  Are  we, 
then,  to  consider  that  the  whole  legend  was  an  inven- 
tion of  the  Emperor's  from  beginning  to  end  ?  In 
this  connection  it  is  important  to  take  into  account 
the  narrative  of  Nazarius,  a  rhetorician  who  delivered 
a  formal  panegyric  upon  Constantine  on  the  anni- 
versary of  his  tenth  year  of  rule,  and  took  the  op- 
portunity of  reviewing  the  whole  campaign  against 
Maxentius.     Nazarius  was  a  pagan  ;  what  then  was 

(the  pagan  version,  if  any,  of  the  miracle  described 
by  Eusebius  and  the  Emperor  ?  Did  the  pagans  at- 
tribute divine  assistance  to  Constantine  throughout 
this  critical  campaign  ?  The  answer  is  unmis- 
takable. They  did  so  most  unequivocally.  Na- 
zarius tells  us  *  that  all  Gaul  was  talking  with  awe 
and  wonder  of  the  marvels  which  had  taken  place, 
how  the  soldiers  of  Constantine  had  seen  in  the  sky 
celestial  armies  marching  in  battle  array  and  had 
been  dazzled  by  their  flashing  shields  and  glittering 
armour.  Not  only  had  the  dull  eyes  of  earthly  men 
for  once  availed  to  look  upon  heavenly  brightness ; 
Constantine's  soldiery  had  also  heard  the  shouts  of 
these  armies  in  the  sky,  "  We  seek  Constantine  ;  we 
are  marching  to  the  aid  of  Constantine."  f  Clearly 
the   pagan  as  well  as  the  Christian  world   insisted 

*  Pan.   Vet.,  x.,  14. 

f  Constantinum  petimus  :   Constantino  imus  auxilio. 


I02  Constantine 

upon  attributing  divine  assistance  to  Constantine 
and  had  its  own  version  of  how  that  succour  came. 
Nazarius's  explanation  was  simple.  According  to 
him,  it  was  Constantius  Chlorus,  the  deified  Emperor, 
who  was  leading  up  the  hosts  of  heaven,  and  such 
miraculous  intervention  was  due  to  the  supreme 
virtue  of  the  father,  which  had  descended  to  the  son. 
The  question  at  once  arises  whether  this  is  merely 
a  pagan  version  of  the  Christian  legend.  Unable  to 
deny  the  miracle,  did  the  pagans,  in  order  to  rob 
the  Christians  of  this  wonderful  testimony  to  the 
truth  of  their  religion,  invent  the  story  of  Constan- 
tius and  the  heavenly  hosts?  Such  a  theory  is 
absolutely  untenable.  It  leaves  out  of  sight  the  all- 
important  fact  that  public  opinion  in  the  fourth  cent- 
ury— as  indeed  for  many  centuries  both  before  and 
after — was  not  only  willing  to  believe  in  super- 
natural intervention  at  moments  of  great  crisis,  but 
actually  insisted  that  there  should  be  such  interven- 
tion. The  greater  the  crisis,  the  more  entirely  rea- 
sonable it  was  that  some  deity  or  deities  should 
make  their  influence  especially  felt  and  turn  the 
scale  to  one  side  or  the  other.  Every  Roman  be- 
lieved that  Castor  and  Pollux  had  fought  for  Rome 
in  the  supreme  struggle  against  Hannibal.  Julius 
believed  that  the  favour  of  Venus  Genetrix,  the 
special  patroness  of  the  Julian  House,  had  helped 
him  to  win  the  battle  of  Pharsalus.  Augustus  was 
just  as  certain  that  Apollo  had  fought  on  his  side  at 
Philippi  and  at  Actium.  It  was  easy — and  modest 
— for  the  winner  to  believe  in  his  protecting  deity's 
strength  of  arm. 


The  Vision  of  the  Cross  103 

One  curious  phrase  employed  by  Nazarius  is  worth 
noting.  It  is  that  in  which  he  claims  that  the  special 
interference  of  Heaven  on  behalf  of  Constantine  was 
not  merely  an  extraordinary  and  gratifying  tribute  to 
the  Emperor's  virtues,  but  that  it  was  no  more  than 
his  due.  In  short,  the  crisis  was  so  tremendous  that 
Heaven  would  have  stood  convicted  of  a  strange 
failure  to  see  events  in  their  just  proportion  if  it  had 
not  done  "  some  great  thing,"  and  wrought  some 
corresponding  wonder.  Such  was  the  idea  at  the 
back  of  Nazarius's  mind  ;  we  suspect  that  it  was  not 
wanting  in  the  mind  of  Eusebius  or  of  Constantine. 
We  may  put  the  matter  paradoxically  and  say  that 
a  miracle  in  those  days  was  not  much  considered  un- 
less it  was  a  very  great  one.  People  who  were  ac- 
customed to  see — or  to  think  that  they  saw — statues 
sweating  blood,  and  to  hear  words  proceeding  from 
lips  of  bronze  or  marble,  and  were  accustomed  to 
treat  such  untoward  events  merely  as  portents  de- 
noting that  something  unusual  was  about  to-  happen, 
must  have  been  difficult  people  to  surprise.  Natur- 
ally, therefore,  legends  grew  more  and  more  marvel- 
lous with  repetition  after  the  event.  The  oftener  a 
man  told  such  a  story  the  less  appeal  it  would  make 
to  his  own  wonder,  unless  he  fortified  it  with  some 
new  incident.  But  to  impress  one's  auditors  it  is 
above  all  things  necessary  to  be  impressed  oneself. 
Hence  the  well-garnished  narrative  of  Nazarius.  The 
idea  of  armies  marching  along  the  sky  was  common 
enough.  Any  one  can  imagine  he  sees  the  glint  of 
weapons  as  the  sun  strikes  the  clouds.  But  this  does 
not  satisfy  the  professional  rhetorician.     He  bids  us 


104  Constantine 

see  the  proud  look  in  the  faces  of  the  heavenly  hosts, 
and  distinguish  the  cries  with  which  they  move  to 
battle.  But  if  Nazarius  is  suspect,  why  not  Euse- 
bius  and  Constantine?  Unless,  indeed,  there  is  to 
be  one  standard  for  pagan  and  another  for  Christian 
miracles ! 

^  But  was  there  some  unusual  manifestation  in  the 
<sky  which  was  the  common  basis  of  the  stories  of 
(^Eusebius  and  Nazarius?  It  is  not  unreasonable  to 
suppose  so.  Scientists  say  that  the  natural  phenom- 
enon known  as  the  parhelion  not  infrequently  as- 
sumes the  shape  of  a  cross,  and  Dean  Stanley,  while 
discussing  this  possible  explanation  in  his  Lectures 
on  the  Eastern  Church,  instanced  the  extraordinary 
impression  made  upon  the  minds  of  the  vulgar  by 
the  aurora  borealis  of  November,  1848.  He  recalled 
how,  throughout  France,  the  people  thought  they 
saw  in  the  sky  the  letters  L.  N. — the  initials  of 
Louis  Napoleon — and  took  them  as  a  clear  indication 
from  Heaven  of  how  they  ought  to  vote  at  the  im- 
pending Presidential  election,  and  as  an  omen  of  the 
result.  That  was  the  interpretation  in  France.  In 
Rome — where  the  people  knew  and  cared  nothing 
for  Louis  Napoleon— no  one  saw  the  Napoleonic  ini- 
tials. The  lurid  gleam  in  the  sky  was  there  thought 
to  be  the  blood  of  the  murdered  Rossi,  which  had 
risen  to  heaven  and  was  calling  for  vengeance.  In 
Oporto,  on  the  other  hand,  the  conscience-stricken 
populace  thought  the  fire  was  coming  down  from 
heaven  to  punish  them  for  their  profligacy.  If  such 
varying  interpretations  of  a  natural  if  rare  phenom- 
enon were  possible  in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth 


The  Vision  of  the  Cross  105 

century,  what  interpretation  was  not  possible  in  the 
fourth?  The  world  was  profoundly  superstitious. 
When  people  believe  in  manifest  signs  they  usually 
see  them.  Some  Polonius,  gifted  either  with  better 
vision  or  livelier  imagination  than  his  fellows,  declares 
that  he  can  distinguish  clear  and  definite  shapes 
amid  the  vague  outline  of  the  clouds ;  the  report 
spreads  ;  the  legend  grows.  And  when  legends  are 
found  to  serve  a  useful  purpose  the  authorities  lend 
them  countenance,  guarantee  their  accuracy,  and 
even  take  to  themselves  the  credit  of  their  authorship. 
At  the  outbreak  of  the  Russo-Japanese  war  a  strange 
story  came  from  St.  Petersburg  that  the  Russian 
moujiks  were  passing  on  from  village  to  village  the 
legend  that  St.  George  had  been  seen  in  the  skies 
leading  his  hosts  to  the  Far  East  against  the  infidel 
Japanese.  Had  Russian  victories  followed,  what 
better  "proof"  of  celestial  aid  could  have  been  de- 
sired? But  as  disaster  ensued,  it  is  to  be  supposed 
that  St.  George  remembered  midway  that  he  also 
had  interests  in  the  Anglo-Japanese  alliance,  and 
remained  strictly  neutral. 

But  though  we  may  be  justly  sceptical  of  the  cir- 
cumstances attending  the  conversion  of  Constan- 
tine,  there  is  no  room  to  doubt  the  conversion  itself. 
''We  do  not  believe  that  he  fought  the  battle  of  the 
Milvian  Bridge  as  the  avowed  champion  of  Christ- 
ianity, but  the  probabilities  are  that  he  had  made 
up  his  mind  to  become  a  Christian  when  he  fought 
it.  The  miraculous  vision  in  the  heavens,  the 
dream  in  the  quiet  of  the  night,  the  appearance  of 
Christ  by  the  bedside  of  the  Emperor — as  to  these 


io6  Constantine 

things  we  may  keep  an  open  mind,  but  the  fashion- 
ing of  the  Labarum— the  sacred  standard  which 
was  preserved  for  so  many  centuries  as  the  most 
precious  of  imperial  heirlooms  and  was  seen  and 
described  as  late  as  the  ninth  century— this  was  the 
outward  and  visible  proof  of  the  change  which  had 
come  over  the  Emperor.     He  had  abandoned  Apollo 

Sfor  Christ.  The  sun-god  had  been  the  favourite 
deity  of  his  youth  and  early  manhood,  as  it  had  been 
of  Augustus  Caesar,  the  founder  of  the  Empire,  and 
the  originator  of  the  close  association  between  the 
worship  of  Apollo  and  the  worship  of  the  reigning 
Csesar.  Constantine  would  not  fail  to  note  that  many 
iof  the  most  gracious  attributes  of  Apollo  belonged 
also  to  Christ. 

He  soon  manifested  the  sincerity  of  his  conver- 
sipn.  After  a  short  stay  in  Rome,  he  went  north  to 
I^ilan,  where  he  gave  the  hand  of  his  sister,  Constan- 
tU^to  his  ally,  Licinius.  Diocletian  was  invited,  but 
declined  to  make  the  journey.  The  two  Emperors, 
no  doubt,  desired  to  secure  the  prestige  of  his  moral 
support  in  their  mutual  hostility  to  the  Emperor  of 
the  East,  and  the  benefit  of  his  counsel  in  their  de- 
liberations upon  the  state  of  the  Empire.  But  even 
if  Diocletian  had  been  tempted  to  leave  his  cabbages 
to  join  in  the  marriage  festivities  and  the  political 
conference  at  Milan,  we  imagine  that  he  would  still 
have  declined  if  he  had  been  given  any  hint  of  the 
intentions  of  Constantine  and  Licinius  with  respect 
to  the  great  question  of  religious  toleration  or  perse- 
cution. He  might  have  been  candid  enough  to 
admit  the  failure  of  his  policy,  but  he  would  still 


The  Edict  of  Milan  107 

have  shrunk  from  proclaiming  it  with  his  own  Hps. 
For,  before  the  festivities  at  Milan  were  interrupted 
by  the  news  that  Maximin  had  thrown  down  the 
gage  of  battle,  Constantine  and  Licinius  issued  in 
their  joint  names  the  famous  Edict  of  Milan,  which 
proclaimed  for  the  first  time  in  its  absolute  entirety 
the  noble  principle  of  complete  religious  toleration. 
Despite  their  length,  it  will  be  well  to  give  in  full 
the  more  important  clauses.  They  are  found  in  the 
text  which  has  been  happily  preserved  by  Lactan- 
tius*  in  the  original  Latin,  while  we  also  have  the 
edict  in  Greek  in  the  Ecclesiastical  History  of  Euse- 
bius  (x.  5).     It  runs  as  follows: 

"  Inasmuch  as  we,  Constantine  Augustus  and  Licinius 
Augustus,  have  met  together  at  Milan  on  a  joyful  oc- 
casion, and  have  discussed  all  that  appertains  to  the 
public  advantage  and  safety,  we  have  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that,  among  the  steps  likely  to  profit  the  majority 
of  mankind  and  demanding  immediate  attention,  nothing 
is  more  necessary  than  to  regulate  the  worship  of  the 
Divinity. 

"We  have  decided,  therefore,  to  grant  both  to  the 
Christians  and  to  all  others  perfect  freedom  to  practise 
the  religion  which  each  has  thought  best  for  himself, 
that  so  whatever  Divinity  resides  in  heaven  may  be  pla- 
cated, and  rendered  propitious  to  us  and  to  all  who  have 
[jjeen  placed  under  our  authority.  Consequently,  we 
have  thought  this  to  be  the  policy  demanded  alike  by 
healthy  and  sound  reason — that  no  one,  on  any  pretext 
whatever,  should  be  denied  freedom  to  choose  his  re- 
ligion, whether  he  prefers  the  Christian  religion  or  any 


*  De  Mart.  Per  sec,  c.  48. 


io8  Constantine 

other  that  seems  most  suited  to  him,  in  order  that  the 
Supreme  Divinity,  whose  observance  we  obey  with  free 
minds,  may  in  all  things  vouchsafe  to  us  its  usual  favours 
and  benevolences. 

"Wherefore,it  is  expedient  for  yourExcellencytoknow 
that  we  have  resolved  to  abolish  every  one  of  the  stipu- 
lations contained  in  all  previous  edicts  sent  to  you  with 
respect  to  the  Christians,  on  the  ground  that  they  now 
seem  to  us  to  be  unjust  and  alien  from  the  spirit  of  our 
clemency. 

"Henceforth,  in  perfect  and  absolute  freedom,  each  and 
every  person  who  chooses  to  belong  to  and  practise 
the  Christian  religion  shall  be  at  liberty  to  do  so  without 
let  or  hindrance  in  any  shape  or  form. 

"  We  have  thought  it  best  to  explain  this  to  your  Ex- 
cellency in  the  fullest  possible  manner  that  you  may 
know  that  we  have  accorded  to  these  same  Christians 
a  free  and  absolutely  unrestricted  right  to  practise  their 
own  religion. 

!"  And  inasmuch  as  you  see  that  we  have  granted  this 
indulgence  to  the  Christians,  your  Excellency  will  un- 
derstand that  a  similarly  free  and  unrestricted  right,  con- 
formable to  the  peace  of  our  times,  is  granted  to  all 
others  equally  to  practise  the  religion  of  their  choice. 
•  We  have  resolved  upon  this  course  that  no  one  and  no 
2  religion  may  seem  to  be  robbed  of  the  honour  that  is 
7  their  due." 

Then  follow  the  most  explicit  instructions  for  the 
restoration  to  the  Christians  of  the  properties  of 
which  they  had  been  robbed  during  the  persecutions, 
though  the  robbery  had  been  committed  in  accord- 
ance with  imperial  command.  Whether  a  property 
had  been  simply  confiscated,  or  sold,  or  given  away, 


The  Edict  of  Milan  109 

it  was  to  be  handed  back  without  the  slightest  cost 
and  without  any  delays  or  ambiguities  {Postposita 
omni  friistratione  atqiie  ambiguitate).  Purchasers 
who  had  bought  such  properties  in  good  faith  were 
to  be  indemnified  from  the  public  treasury  by  grace 
of  the  Emperor. 

But  the  abiding  interest  of  this  celebrated  edict 
lies  in  the  general  principles  there  clearly  enunciated. 
Every  man,  without  distinction  of  rank  or  national- 
ity, is  to  have  absolute  freedom  to  choose  and  prac- 
tise the  religion  which  he  deems  most  suited  to  his 
needs  {Libera  atqiie  absoliita  colendcs  religiojiis  sties 
facultas).  The  phrase  is  repeated  with  almost  wea- 
risome iteration,  but  the  principle  was  novel  and 
strange,  and  one  can  see  the  anxiety  of  the  framers 
of  this  edict  that  there  shall  be  no  possible  loophole 
for  misunderstanding.  Everybody  is  to  have  free 
choice;  all  previous  anti-Christian  enactments  are 
annulled  ;  not  only  is  no  compulsion  to  be  employed 
against  the  Christian,  he  is  not  even  to  be  troubled 
or  annoyed  {Citra  ullani  inquietiidinem  ac  molestiani). 
The  novelty  lay  not  so  much  in  the  toleration  of  the 
existence  of  Christianity,  —  both  Constantine  and 
/Licinius  had  two  years  before  signed  the  edict 
Whereby  Galerius  put  an  end  to  the  persecution, — 
(^ut  in  its  formal  official  recognition  by  the  State. 
What  motives,  then,  are  assigned  by  the  Emperors 
for  this  notable  change  of  policy  ?  Certainly  not 
humanity.  Nothing  is  said  of  the  terrors  of  the  late 
persecutions  and  the  horrible  sufferings  of  the  Christ- 
ians— there  is  merely  a  bald  reference  to  previous 
edicts  which  the  Emperors   consider   "  unjust   and 


I  lo  Constantine 

alien  from  the  spirit  of  our  clemency  "  {Sinistra  et 
a  nostra  dementia  aliena  esse\     There  is  no  appeal 
to  political  necessity,  such  as  the  exhaustion  of  the 
world  and  its  palpable  need   of  rest.     The  motives 
assigned  are  purely  religious.     The  Emperors  pro- 
( claim   religious   toleration    in  order  that  they   and 
Itheir  subjects  may  continue  to  receive  the  blessings 
(of  Heaven.     One  of  them  at  least  had  just  emerged 
victoriously  from  the  manifold  hazards  of  an  invasion 
of  Italy.     Surely  we  can  trace  a  reference  to  the 
battle  of  the  Milvian  Bridge  and  the  overthrow  of 
Maxentius  in  the  mention  of  "  the  Divine  favour 
towards  us,  which  we  have  experienced  in  affairs  of 
the  highest  moment  "  {Divinus  jiixta  no s  favor  quern 
fin  tantis  siimus  rebus  experti).     What  Constantine 
\  and  Licinius  hope  to  secure  is  a  continuance  of  the 
j  favour  and  benevolence  of  the  Supreme  Divinity, 
(the  patronage  of  the  ruling  powers  of  the  sky.     The 
phraseology  is  important.     The  name  of  God  is  not 
mentioned — only    the  vague  "  Summa   Divinitas^' 
'■^Divinus  favor,''  and    the   still  more  curious  and 
non-committal  phrase,  "  Quicquid  est  Divinitatis  in 
sede  ccelesti.'"     In  Eusebius  the  same  phrase  appears 
in  a  form  still  more  nebulous  {on  tcoxb.  iari  deiorr)? 
xdi  ovpaviov  npdyfxato?:).     A  pagan  philosopher, 
more  than  half  sceptical  as  to  the  existence  of  a  per- 
sonal God,  might  well  employ  such  language,  but  it 
reads  strangely  in  an  official  edict. 

But  then  this  edict  was  to  bear  the  joint  names 
of  Constantine  and  Licinius.  Constantine  might  be 
a  Christian,  but  Licinius  was  still  a  pagan,  and  Licin- 
ius was  not  his  vassal,  but  his  equal.     He  would  cer- 


The  Edict  of  Milan  in 

tainly  not  have  been  prepared  to  set  his  name  to  an 
edict  which  pledged  him  to  personal  adherence  to  the 
Christian  faith.  Constantine,  in  the  flush  of  triumph, 
would  insist  that  the  persecution  of  the  Christians 
should  cease,  and  that  the  Christian  religion  should 
be  ofificially  recognised.  Licinius  would  raise  no 
objection.  But  they  would  speedily  find,  when  it 
came  to  drafting  a  joint  edict,  that  the  only  religious 
ground  common  to  them  both  was  very  limited  in 
extent,  and  that  the  only  way  to  preserve  a  sem- 
blance of  unity  was  to  employ  the  vaguest  phrase- 
ology which  each  might  interpret  in  his  own  fashion. 
If  we  can  imagine  the  Pope  and  the  Caliph  drafting 
a  joint  appeal  to  mankind  which  necessitated  the 
mention  of  the  Higher  Power,  they  would  find  them- 
selves driven  to  use  words  as  cloudy  and  indistinct 
as  the  "  Whatever  Divinity  there  is  and  heavenly 
substance"  of  Eusebius.  No,  it  was  not  that  Con- 
stantine's  mind  was  in  the  transitional  stage  ;  it  was 
rather  that  he  had  to  find  a  common  platform  for 
himself  and  Licinius, 

But  to  have  converted  Licinius  at  all  to  an 
official  recognition  of  the  Christians  and  complete 
toleration  was  a  great  achievement,  for  the  principle, 
as  we  have  said,  was  entirely  new.  M.  Gaston 
Boissier,  in  discussing  this  point,  recalls  how  even 
the  broad-minded  Plato  had  found  no  place  in  his 
ideal  republic  for  those  who  disbelieved  in  the  gods 
of  their  fatherland  and  of  the  city  of  their  birth. 
Even  if  they  kept  their  opinions  to  themselves  and 
did  not  seek  to  disturb  the  faith  of  others,  Plato 
insisted    upon    their  being  placed   in    a  House   of 


112  Constantine 

Correction — it  is  true  he  calls  it  a  Sophronisterion,  or 
House  of  Wisdom — for  five  years,  where  they  were 
to  listen  to  a  sermon  every  day ;  while,  if  they  were 
zealous  propagandists  of  their  pernicious  doctrines, 
he  proposed  to  keep  them  all  their  lives  in  horrible 
dungeons  and  deny  their  bodies  after  death  the 
right  of  sepulture.  How,  one  wonders,  would  Soc- 
rates have  fared  in  such  a  state?  No  better,  we 
fancy,  than  he  fared  in  his  own  city  of  Athens. 
But,  throughout  antiquity,  every  lawgiver  took  the 
same  view,  that  a  good  citizen  must  accept  without 
question  the  gods  of  his  native  place  who  had  been 
the  gods  of  his  fathers  ;  and  it  was  a  simple  step 
'from  that  position  to  the  stern  refusal  to  allow  a 
man,  in  the  vigorous  words  of  the  Old  Testament, 
to  go  a-whoring  after  other  gods.  "  For  I,  thy  God, 
am  a  jealous  God."  The  God  of  the  Jews  was  not 
more  jealous  than  the  gods  of  the  Assyrians,  the 
Egyptians,  the  Greeks,  or  the  Romans  would  like 
to  have  been,  had  they  had  the  same  power  of 
concise  expression. 

What  was  the  theory  of  the  State  religion  in 
Rome  ?  Cicero  tells  us  in  a  well-known  passage  in 
his  treatise  On  the  Laws,  where  he  quotes  the 
ancient  formula,  "  Let  no  man  have  separate  gods  of 
his  own  :  nor  let  people  privately  worship  new  gods 
or  alien  gods,  unless  they  have  been  publicly  ad- 
mitted." *  Nothing  could  be  more  explicit.  But 
theory  and  practice  in  Rome  had  a  habit  of  be- 
coming divorced  from  one  another.     It  is  a  noto- 

*  Separatim  nemo  habessit  deos  :  neve  novos,  sive  advenas,  nisi 
publice  adscitos  privatim  colunto. — De  Leg.,  ii.,  8. 


The  Edict  of  Milan  113 

rious  fact  that,  as  Rome's  conquering  eagles  flew 
farther  afield,  the  legions  and  the  merchants  who  fol- 
lowed in  their  track  broughtall  manner  of  strangegods 
back  to  the  city,  where  every  wandering  Chaldaean 
thaumaturgist,  magician,  or  soothsayer  found  wel- 
come and  profit,  and  every  stray  goddess — especially 
if  her  rites  had  mysteries  attached  to  them — re- 
ceived a  comfortable  home.  In  a  word,  Rome 
found  new  religions  just  as  fascinating — for  a  season 
or  two — as  do  the  capitals  of  the  modern  world, 
and  these  new  religions  were  certainly  not  "  publicly 
admitted  "  by  the  Pontifex  Maxinms  and  the  re- 
presentatives of  the  State  religion.  Occasionally, 
usually  after  some  outbreak  of  pestilence  or  because 
an  Emperor  was  nervous  at  the  presence  of  so  many 
swarthy  charlatans  devoting  themselves  to  the 
Black  Arts,  an  order  of  expulsion  would  be  issued 
and  there  would  be  a  fluttering  of  the  dove-cotes. 
But  they  came  creeping  back  one  by  one,  as  the 
storm  blew  over.  While,  therefore,  in  theory  the 
gods  of  Rome  were  jealous,  in  practice  they  were 
not  so.  The  easy  scepticism  or  eclecticism  of  the 
cultured  Roman  was  conducive  to  tolerance. 
Cicero's  famous  sentence  in  the  Pro  Flacco,  "  Each 
state  has  its  own  religion,  Lselius  :  we  have  ours,' 
shews  how  little  of  the  religious  fanatic  there  was 
in  the  average  Roman,  who  stole  the  gods  of  the 
people  he  conquered  and  made  them  his  own,  so] 
that  they  might  acquiesce  in  the  Roman  domination^ 
The  Roman  was  tolerant  enough  in  private  life 
towards  other  people's  religious  convictions  :  all  he 
asked  was  reciprocity,  ard  that  was  precisely  what 


114 


Constantine 


Na 


the  Christian  would  not  and  could  not  give  him. 
/if  the  Christian  would  have  sacrificed  at  the  altars 
\  of  the  State  gods,  the  Roman  would  never  have 
/objected  to  his  worship  of  Christ  for  his  own  private 
/  satisfaction.  There  lies  the  secret  of  the  perse- 
l  cutions,  and  of  the  fierce  anti-Christian  hatreds. 
f  Constantine  and  Licinius,  by  their  edict  of  recog- 
J  nition  and  toleration,  "  publicly  admitted"  into  the 
I  Roman  worship  the  God  of  the  Christians. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE   DOWNFALL   OF   LICINIUS 

IT  will  be  convenient  in  this  chapter  to  present  a 
connected  narrative  of  the  course  of  political 
events  from  the  Edict  of  Milan  in  313  down  to  the 
overthrow  of  Licinius  by  Constantine  in  324.  We 
have  seen  that  Maximin  Daza  never  moved  a  single 
soldier  to  help  his  ally,  Maxentius,  during  Constan- 
tine's  invasion  of  Italy,  though  he  soon  gave  prac- 
tical proof  that  his  hostility  had  not  abated  by 
invading  the  territory  of  Licinius.  The  attack  was 
clearly  not  expected.  Licinius  was  still  at  Milan,  and 
his  troops  had  probably  been  drawn  off  into  winter 
quarters,  when  the  news  came  that  Maximin  had 
collected  a  powerful  army  in  Syria,  had  marched 
through  to  Bithynia  regardless  of  the  sufferings  of 
his  legions  and  the  havoc  caused  in  the  ranks  by  the 
severity  of  the  season,  and  had  succeeded  in  cross- 
ing the  Bosphorus.  Apparently,  Maximin  was  be- 
sieging Byzantium  before  Licinius  was  ready  to 
move  from  Italy  to  confront  him. 

Byzantium    capitulated    after    a   siege    of   eleven 
days  and  Heraclea  did  not  offer  a  prolonged  resist- 
ance.     By  this  time,  however,  Licinius  was  getting 
115 


ii6  Constantine 

within  touch  of  the  invader  and  preparations  were 
made  on  both  sides  for  a  pitched  battle.  The  num- 
bers of  Licinius's  army  were  scarcely  half  those 
of  his  rival,  but  Maximin  was  completely  routed  on 
a  plain  called  Serenus,  near  the  city  of  Adrianople, 
and  fled  for  his  life,  leaving  his  broken  battalions  to 
shift  for  themselves.  Lactantius,  in  describing  the 
engagement,"^  represents  it  as  having  been  a  duel 
to  the  death  between  Christianity  and  paganism. 
He  says  that  Maximin  had  vowed  to  eradicate  the 
very  name  of  the  Christians  if  Jupiter  favoured  his 
arms  ;  while  Licinius  had  been  warned  by  an  angel 
of  God  in  a  dream  that,  if  he  wished  to  make  infalli- 
bly sure  of  victory,  he  and  his  army  had  only  to 
recite  a  prayer  to  Almighty  God  which  the  angel 
would  dictate  to  him.  Licinius  at  once  sent  for 
a  secretary  and  the  prayer  was  taken  down.  It  ran 
as  follows  : 

"God  most  High,  we  call  upon  Thee;  Holy  God,  we 
call  upon  Thee.  We  commend  to  Thee  all  justice;  we 
commend  to  Thee  our  safety;  we  commend  to  Thee  our 
sovereignty.  Through  Thee  we  live;  through  Thee  we 
gain  victory  and  happiness.  Most  High  and  Holy  God, 
hear  our  prayers.  We  stretch  out  our  arms  to  Thee. 
Hear  us.  Most  High  and  Holy  God." 

Such  was  the  talismanic  prayer  of  which  the 
Emperor's  secretary  made  hurried  copies,  distribu- 
ting them  to  the  general  ofificers  and  the  tribunes  of 
the  legions,  with  instructions  that  the  troops  were 


De  Mort.  Per  sec,  c.  46. 


The  Downfall  of  Licinius         117 

at  once  to  get  the  words  off  by  heart.  When  the 
armies  moved  against  one  another  in  battle  array, 
the  legions  of  Licinius  at  a  given  signal  laid  down 
their  shields,  removed  their  helmets,  and,  lifting  their 
hands  to  heaven,  recited  in  unison  these  rhythmic 
sentences  with  their  strangely  effective  repetitions. 
Lactantius  tells  us  that  the  murmur  of  the  prayer 
was  borne  upon  the  ears  of  the  doomed  army  of  the 
enemy.  Then,  after  a  brief  colloquy  between  the 
rivals,  in  which  Maximin  refused  to  offer  or  agree  to 
any  concession,  because  he  believed  that  the  soldiers 
of  Licinius  would  come  over  to  him  in  a  body,  the 
armies  charged  and  the  standard  of  Maximin  went 
down. 

It  is  a  striking  story,  and  we  may  easily  understand 
that  Licinius,  fresh  from  his  meeting  with  Constan- 
tine   and  with  vivid  recollection  of  how  valiantly 
this  Summus  Dens  had  fought  for  his  ally  against 
Maxentius,  would  be  ready  to   believe  beforehand 
in   the   efficacy   of  any  supernatural  warning   con- 
veyed   by   any   supernatural    "  minister   of    grace." 
We  may  note,  too,  the  splendid  vagueness  of  the 
(  Deity  invoked  in  the  prayer.    Lactantius,  of  course, 
\claims  that  this  Most  High  and  Holy  God  is  none 
Jother  than  the  God  of  the  Christians,  but  there  was 
jnothing  to  prevent  the  votary  of  Jupiter,  of  Apollo, 
/of  Mithra,  of  Baal,  or  of  Balenus,  from  thinking  that 
(he  was  imploring  the  aid  of  his  own  familiar  deity. 
Maximin  fled  from  the  scene  of  carnage  as  though 
he  had  been  pursued  by  all  the  Cabiri.     Throwing 
aside  his  purple  and  assuming  the  garb  of  a  slave — it 
is  Lactantius,  however,  who  is  speaking — he  crossed 


ii8  Constantine 

the  Bosphorus,  and,  within  twenty-four  hours  of  quit- 
ting the  field,  reached  once  more  the  palace  of  Nico- 
media — a  distance  of  a  hundred  and  sixty  miles. 
Taking  his  wife  and  children  with  him,  he  hurried 
through  the  defiles  of  the  Taurus,  summoned  to 
his  side  whatever  troops  he  had  left  behind  in  Syria 
and  Egypt,  and  awaited  the  oncoming  of  Licinius, 
who  followed  at  leisure  in  his  tracks.  The  end  was 
not  long  delayed.  Maximin's  soldiers  regarded  his 
cause  as  lost,  and  despairing  of  clemency,  he  took 
his  own  life  at  Tarsus.  His  provinces  passed  with- 
out a  struggle  into  the  hands  of  Licinius,  who  butch- 
ered every  surviving  member  of  Maximin's  family. 

Nor  had  the  victor  pity  even  for  two  ladies  of 
imperial  rank,  whose  misfortunes  and  sufferings  ex- 
cited the  deepest  compassion  in  that  stony-hearted 
age.  These  were  Prisca,  the  wife  of  Diocletian,  and 
her  daughter  Valeria,  the  widow  of  the  Emperor 
Galerius.  On  his  death-bed  Galerius  had  entrusted 
his  wife  to  the  care  and  the  gratitude  of  Maximin, 
whom  he  had  raised  from  obscurity  to  a  throne. 
Maximin  repaid  his  confidence  by  pressing  Valeria 
to  marry  him  and  offering  to  divorce  his  own  wife. 
Valeria  returned  an  indignant  and  high-spirited  re- 
fusal. She  would  never  think  of  marriage,  she  said,* 
while  still  wearing  mourning  for  a  husband  whose 
ashes  were  not  yet  cold.  It  was  monstrous  that 
Maximin  should  seek  to  divorce  a  faithful  wife,  and, 
even  if  she  assented  to  his  proposal,  she  had  clear 
warning  of   what  was   likely  to  be   her   own  fate. 


*  De  Mort.  Per  sec. ,  c.  39. 


The  Downfall  of  Licinius         119 

Finally,  it  was  not  becoming  that  the  daughter  of 
Diocletian  and  the  widow  of  Galerius  should  stoop 
to  a  second  marriage.  Maximin  took  a  bitter  re- 
venge. He  reduced  Valeria  to  penury,  marked 
down  all  her  friends  for  ruin,  and  finally  drove  her 
into  exile  with  her  mother,  Prisca,  who  nobly  shared 
the  sufferings  of  the  daughter  whom  she  could  not 
shield.  Lactantius  tells  us  that  the  two  imperial 
ladies  wandered  miserably  through  the  Syrian 
wastes,  while  Maximin  took  delight  in  spurning  the 
overtures  of  the  aged  Diocletian,  who  sent  repeated 
messages  begging  that  his  daughter  might  be  allowed 
to  go  and  live  with  him  at  Salona.  Maximin  re- 
fused even  when  Diocletian  sent  one  of  his  rela- 
tives to  remind  him  of  past  benefits,  and  the  two 
unfortunate  ladies  knew  no  alleviation  of  their 
troubles.  When  the  tyrant  fell,  they  probably 
thought  that  the  implacable  hatred  with  which 
Maximin  had  pursued  them  would  be  their  best 
recommendation  to  the  favour  of  Licinius.  Again, 
however,  they  were  disappointed,  for  Licinius,  in 
his  jealous  anxiety  to  spare  no  one  connected  with 
the  families  of  his  predecessors  in  the  purple,  or- 
dered the  execution  of  Candidianus,  a  natural  son 
of  Galerius,  who  had  been  brought  up  by  Valeria  as 
her  own  child.  In  despair,  therefore,  the  two  ladies, 
who  had  boldly  gone  to  Nicomedia,  fled  from  the 
scene  and  "  wandered  for  fifteen  months,  disguised  as 
plebeians,  through  various  provinces,"*  until  they 
had  the  misfortune  to  be  recognised  at  Thessalonica. 


■  De  Mart  Per  sec,  c.  51. 


I20  Constantine 

They  were  at  once  beheaded  and  their  bodies 
thrown  into  the  sea,  amid  the  pitying  synnpathy  of  a 
vast  throng  which  dared  not  lift  a  hand  to  save 
them. 

Constantine  and  Licinius  now  shared  between 
them  the  whole  of  the  Roman  Empire.  They  were 
allies,  but  their  alliance  did  not  long  stand  the  strain 
of  their  respective  ambitions.  Each  had  won  an  easy 
victory  over  his  antagonist,  and  each  was  confident 
that  his  legions  would  suf^ce  to  win  him  undivided 
empire.  We  know  very  little  of  the  pretexts  as- 
signed for  the  quarrel  which  culminated  in  the  war 
of  316.  Zosimus  throws  the  blame  upon  Constan- 
tine, whom  he  accuses  of  not  keeping  faith  and  of 
trying  to  filch  from  Licinius  some  of  his  provinces. 
But  as  the  sympathies  of  Zosimus  were  strongly 
pagan  and  as  he  invariably  imputed  the  worst  possible 
motive  to  Constantine,  it  is  fairest  and  most  reason- 
able to  suppose  that  the  two  Emperors  simply  quar- 
relled over  the  division  of  the  Empire.  Constantine 
had  given  the  hand  of  his  half-sister  Anastasia  to 
one  of  his  generals,  named  Bassianus,  whom  he  had 
raised  to  the  dignity  of  a  Caesar.  But  for  some 
reason  left  unexplained — possibly  because  Constan- 
tine granted  only  the  title,  without  the  legions  and 
the  provinces,  of  a  Csesar — Bassianus  became  dis- 
contented with  his  position  and  entered  into  an 
intrigue  with  Licinius.  Constantine  discovered  the 
plot,  put  Bassianus  to  death,  and  demanded  from 
Licinius  the  surrender  of  Senecio,  a  brother  of  the 
victim  and  a  relative  of  Licinius.  The  demand  was 
refused  ;  some  statues  of  Constantine  were  demol- 


The  Downfall  of  Licinius         121 

ished  by  Licinius's  orders  at  ^mona  (Laybach) 
and  war  ensued. 

The  armies  met  in  the  autumn  of  3 16  near  Cibalis, 
in  Pannonia,  between  the  rivers  Drave  and  Save. 
Neither  Emperor  led  into  the  field  anything  ap- 
proaching the  full  strength  he  was  able  to  muster  ; 
Licinius  is  said  to  have  had  only  35,000  men  and 
Constantine  no  more  than  20,000.  From  Zosimus's 
highly  rhetorical  account  of  the  battle'^  we  gather 
that  Constantine  chose  a  position  between  a  steep 
hill  and  an  impassable  morass,  and  repulsed  the 
charge  of  the  legions  of  Licinius.  Then  as  he 
advanced  into  the  plain  in  pursuit  of  the  enemy,  he 
was  checked  by  some  fresh  troops  which  Licinius 
brought  up,  and  a  long  and  stubborn  contest  lasted 
until  nightfall,  when  Constantine  decided  the  for- 
tunes of  the  day  by  an  irresistible  charge.  Licinius 
is  said  to  have  lost  20,000  men  in  this  encounter, 
more  than  fifty  per  cent,  of  his  entire  force,  and  he 
beat  a  hurried  retreat,  leaving  his  camp  to  be  plun- 
dered by  the  victor,  whose  own  losses  must  also 
have  been  severe. 

A  few  weeks  later  the  battle  was  renewed  on  the 
plain  of  Mardia  in  Thrace.  Licinius  had  evidently 
been  strongly  reinforced  from  Asia,  for,  though  he 
was  again  defeated  after  a  hotly  contested  battle, 
he  was  able  to  effect  an  orderly  retreat  and  draw  off 
his  beaten  troops  without  disorder — a  rare  thing  in 
the  annals  of  Roman  warfare,  where  defeat  usually 
involved  destruction.     Constantine  is  said  to  have 


*  Zosimus,  ii.,  19. 


122  Constantine 

owed  his  victory  to  his  superior  generalship  and  to 
the  skill  with  which  he  timed  a  surprise  attack  of 
five  thousand  of  his  men  upon  the  rear  of  the 
enemy.  Yet  we  may  be  certain  that  he  would  not 
have  consented  to  treat  with  Licinius  for  peace  had 
he  not  had  considerable  cause  for  anxiety  about  the 
final  issue  of  the  campaign.  However,  his  two 
victories,  while  not  sufficiently  decisive  to  enable 
him  to  dictate  any  terms  he  chose,  at  least  gave  him 
the  authoritative  word  in  the  negotiations  which 
ensued,  and  sealed  the  doom  of  the  unfortunate 
Valens,  whom  Licinius  had  just  appointed  Caesar. 
When  Licinius's  envoy  spoke  of  his  two  imperial 
masters,  Licinius  and  Valens,  Constantine  retorted 
that  he  recognised  but  one,  and  bluntly  stated  that 
he  had  not  endured  tedious  marches  and  won  a 
succession  of  victories,  only  to  share  the  prize  with 
a  contemptible  slave.  Licinius  sacrificed  his  lieu- 
tenant without  compunction  and  consented  to  hand 
over  to  Constantine  Illyria  and  its  legions,  with  the 
important  provinces  of  Pannonia,  Dalmatia,  Moesia, 
and  Dacia.  The  only  foothold  left  him  on  the  Con- 
tinent of  Europe,  out  of  all  that  had  previously  been 
included  in  the  eastern  half  of  the  Empire,  was  the 
province  of  Thrace. 

At  the  same  time,  the  two  Emperors  agreed  to 
elevate  their  sons  to  the  rank  of  Caesar.  Constan- 
tine bestowed  the  dignity  upon  Crispus,  the  son  of 
his  first  marriage  with  Minervina.  Crispus  was  now 
in  the  promise  of  early  manhood,  and  had  proved 
his  valour,  and  won  his  spurs  in  the  recent  campaign. 
Licinius  gave  the  title  to  his  son  Licinianus,  an  infant 


The  Downfall  of  Licinius         123 

no  more  than  twenty  months  old.  These  appoint- 
ments are  important,  for  they  shew  how  completely 
the  system  of  Diocletian  had  broken  down.  The  Em- 
perors appointed  Caesars  out  of  deference  to  the 
letter  of  that  constitution,  but  they  outrageously 
violated  its  spirit  by  appointing  their  own  sons,  and 
when  the  choice  fell  on  an  infant,  insult  was  added 
to  injury.  It  was  plain  warning  to  all  the  world 
that  Constantine  and  Licinius  meant  to  keep  power 
in  their  own  hands.  When,  a  few  years  later,  three 
sons  were  born  to  Constantine  and  Fausta  in  quick 
succession,  the  eldest,  who  was  given  the  name  of 
his  father,  was  created  Caesar  shortly  after  his  birth. 
No  doubt  the  Empress — herself  an  Emperor's 
daughter — demanded  that  her  son  should  enjoy 
equal  rank  with  the  son  of  the  low-born  Minervina, 
and  the  probabilities  are  that  Constantine  already 
looked  forward  to  providing  the  young  Princes  with 
patrimonies  carved  out  of  the  territory  of  Licinius. 
However,  there  was  no  actual  rupture  between  the 
two  Emperors  until  323,  though  relations  had  long 
been  strained. 

We  know  comparatively  little  of  what  took  place 
in  the  intervening  years.  They  were  not,  however, 
years  of  unbroken  peace.  There  was  fighting  both 
on  the  Danube  and  the  Rhine.  The  Goths  and 
the  Sarmatae,  who  had  been  taught  such  a  severe 
lesson  by  Claudius  and  Aurelian  that  they  had  left 
the  Danubian  frontier  undisturbed  for  half  a  century, 
again  surged  forward  and  swept  over  Moesia  and 
Pannonia.  We  hear  of  several  hard-fought  battles 
along  the  course  of  the  river,  and  then,  when  Con- 


124  Constantine 

stantine,  at  the  head  of  his  legions,  had  driven  out 
the  invader,  he  himself  crossed  the  Danube  and 
compelled  the  barbarians  to  assent  to  a  peace 
whereby  they  pledged  themselves  to  supply  the 
Roman  armies,  when  required,  with  forty  thousand 
auxiliaries.  The  details  of  this  campaign  are  ex- 
ceedingly obscure  and  untrustworthy.  The  Pane- 
gyrists of  the  Emperor  claimed  that  he  had  repeated 
the  triumphs  of  Trajan.  Constantine  himself  is 
represented  by  the  mocking  Julian  as  boasting  that 
he  was  a  greater  general  than  Trajan,  because  it  is 
a  finer  thing  to  win  back  what  you  have  lost  than 
to  conquer  something  which  was  not  yours  before. 
The  probabilities  are  that  there  took  place  one  of 
those  alarming  barbarian  movements  from  which 
the  Roman  Empire  was  never  long  secure,  that  Con- 
stantine beat  it  back  successfully,  and  gained  vic- 
tories which  were  decisive  enough  at  the  moment, 
but  in  which  there  was  no  real  finality,  because 
no  finality  was  possible.  Probably  it  was  the  seri- 
ousness of  these  Gothic  and  Sarmatian  campaigns 
which  was  chiefly  responsible  for  the  years  of  peace 
between  Constantine  and  Licinius.  Until  the  bar- 
barian  danger  had  been  repelled,  Constantine  was 
perforce  obliged  to  remain  on  tolerable  terms  with 
the  Emperor  of  the  East. 

While  the  father  was  thus  engaged  on  the  Danube, 
the  son  was  similarly  employed  on  the  Rhine.  The 
young  Caesar,  Crispus,  already  entrusted  with  the 
administration  of  Gaul  and  Britain  and  the  command 
of  the  Rhine  legions,  won  a  victory  over  the  Al- 
emanni   in   a  winter   campaign    and    distinguished 


The  Downfall  of  Licinius         125 

himself  by  the  skill  and  rapidity  with  which  he  exe- 
cuted a  long  forced  march  despite  the  icy  rigours 
of  a  severe  season.  It  is  Nazarius,  the  Panegyrist, 
who  refers*  in  glowing  sentences  to  this  admirable 
performance — carried  through,  he  says,  with  "  in- 
credibly youthful  verve"  {incredibili  jiivenilitate 
confecit), — and  praises  Crispus  to  the  skies  as  "  the 
most  noble  Caesar  of  his  august  father."  When 
that  speech  was  delivered  on  the  day  of  the  Quin- 
quennalia  of  the  Caesars  in  321,  Constantine's  ears 
did  not  yet  grudge  to  listen  to  the  eulogies  of  his 
gallant  son. 

But  there  is  one  omission  from  the  speech  which 
is  exceedingly  significant.  It  contains  no  mention 
of  Licinius,  and  no  one  reading  the  oration  would 
gather  that  there  were  two  Emperors  or  that  the 
Empire  was  divided.  Evidently,  Constantine  and 
Licinius  were  no  longer  on  good  terms,  and  none 
knew  better  than  the  Panegyrists  of  the  Court  the 
art  of  suppressing  the  slightest  word  or  reference 
that  might  bring  a  frown  to  the  brow  of  their  im- 
perial auditor.  But  even  two  years  before,  in  319, 
the  names  of  Licinius  and  the  boy,  Caesar  Licini- 
anus,  had  ceased  to  figure  on  the  consular  Fasti — 
a  straw  which  pointed  very  clearly  in  which  direc- 
tion the  wind  was  blowing. 

Zosimus  attributes  the  war  to  the  ambition  of 
Constantine;  Eutropius  roundly  accuses f  him  of 
having  set  his  heart  upon  acquiring  the  sovereignty 


*  Pan.   Vet.,x.,  36. 

f  Eutropius,  X. ,  5  :  PrincipaHim  totius  orbis  adfectans. 


1 26  Constantine 

of  the  whole  world.  On  the  other  hand,  Eusebius  * 
depicts  Constantine  as  a  magnanimous  monarch,  the 
very  pattern  of  humanity,  long  suffering  of  injury, 
and  forgiving  to  the  point  of  seventy  times  seven 
the  ungrateful  intrigues  of  the  black-hearted  Licinius. 
According  to  the  Bishop  of  Caesarea,  Constantine 
had  been  the  benefactor  of  Licinius,  who,  con- 
scious of  his  inferiority,  plotted  in  secret  until  he 
was  driven  into  open  enmity.  But  it  is  very  evident 
that  the  reason  of  Eusebius's  enmity  to  Licinius  was 
the  anti-Christian  policy  into  which  the  Emperor 
had  drifted,  as  soon  as  he  became  estranged  from 
Constantine.  A  more  detailed  description  of  Li- 
cinius's  religious  policy  and  of  the  new  persecution 
which  broke  out  in  his  provinces  will  be  found  in 
another  chapter ;  here  we  need  only  point  out 
Eusebius's  anxiety  to  represent  the  cause  of  the 
quarrel  between  the  Emperors  as  being  in  the  main 
a  religious  one.  He  tells  usf  that  Licinius  re- 
garded as  traitors  to  himself  those  who  were  friendly 
to  his  rival,  and  savagely  attacked  the  bishops,  who, 
as  he  judged,  were  his  most  bitter  opponents.  The 
phrase,  not  without  reason,  has  given  rise  to  the 
suspicion  that  the  Christian  bishops  of  the  East 
were  regarded  as  head  centres  of  political  disaffec- 
tion, and  Licinius  evidently  suspected  them  of 
preaching  treason  and  acting  as  the  agents  of  Con- 
stantine. We  have  not  sufificient  data  to  enable  us 
to  draw  any  sure  inference,  but  the  bishops  could 
not  help  contrasting  the  liberality  of  Constantine  to 
the  Church,  of  which  he  was  the  open  champion, 
*Euseb.,  De  Vita  Const.,  i.,  50,  \Ibid.,  i.,  56, 


The  Downfall  of  Licinius         127 

with  the  reactionary  poHcy  of  Licinius,  which  had  at 
length  culminated  in  active  persecution. 

But  the  dominant  cause  of  this  war  is  to  be  found 
in  political  ambitions  rather  than  in  religious  pas- 
sions, and  if  we  must  declare  who  of  the  two  was 
the  aggressor,  it  is  difficult  to  escape  throwing  the 
blame  upon  Constantine.  Licinius  was  advancing 
in  years.  Even  if  he  had  not  outlived  his  am- 
bitions, he  can  at  least  have  had  little  taste  for  a 
campaign  in  which  he  put  all  to  the  venture.  Con- 
stantine, on  the  other  hand,  was  in  the  prime  of  life, 
and  the  master  of  a  well  tried,  disciplined,  and 
victorious  army.  The  odds  were  on  his  side.  He 
had  all  the  legions  which  could  be  spared  from  the 
Rhine  and  the  Danube,  and  all  the  auxiliaries  from 
the  Illyrian  and  Pannonian  provinces — the  best 
recruiting  grounds  in  the  Empire — to  oppose  to  the 
legions  of  Syria  and  Egypt.  Constantine  doubtless 
seemed  to  the  bishops  to  be  entering  the  field  as  the 
champion  of  the  Church,  but  the  real  prize  which 
drew  him  on  was  universal  dominion. 

This  time  both  Emperors  exerted  themselves  to 
make  tremendous  preparations  for  the  struggle. 
Zosimus  describes  how  Constantine  began  a  new 
naval  harbour  at  Thessalonica  to  accommodate  the 
two  hundred  war  galleys  and  two  thousand  trans- 
ports which  he  had  ordered  to  be  built  in  his  dock- 
yards. He  mobilised,  if  Zosimus  is  to  be  trusted, 
120,000  infantry  and  10,000  marines  and  cavalry. 
Licinius,  on  the  other  hand,  is  said  to  have  collected 
150,000  foot  and  15,000  horse.  Whether  these 
numbers  are  trustworthy  or  not,  it  is  evident  that 


128  Constantine 

the  two  Emperors  did  their  best  to  throw  every 
available  man  into  the  plain  of  Adrianople,  where 
the  two  hosts  were  separated  by  the  river  Hebrus. 
Some  days  were  spent  in  skirmishing  and  manoeu- 
vring; then  on  July  3,  323,  a  decisive  action  was 
brought  on,  which  ended  in  the  rout  of  the  army  of 
Licinius.  Constantine,  whose  tactical  dispositions 
seem  to  have  been  more  skilful  than  those  of  Li- 
cinius, secretly  detached  a  force  of  5000  archers  to 
occupy  a  position  in  the  rear  of  the  enemy,  and 
these  used  their  bows  with  overwhelming  effect  at  a 
critical  moment  of  the  action,  when  Constantine 
himself,  at  the  head  of  another  detachment,  suc- 
ceeded in  forcing  a  passage  of  the  river.  Constan- 
tine received  a  slight  wound  in  the  thigh,  but  he 
had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  enemy  driven  from 
their  fortified  camp  and  betake  themselves  in  hur- 
ried flight  to  the  sheltering  walls  of  Byzantium, 
leaving  34,000  dead  and  wounded  on  the  field 
of  battle. 

Byzantium  was  a  stronghold  which  had  fallen  be- 
fore Maximin  after  a  siege  of  eleven  days,  but  we 
may  suppose  that  Licinius  had  looked  well  to  its 
fortifications  with  a  view  to  such  an  emergency  as 
that  in  which  he  now  found  himself.  He  placed, 
however,  his  chief  reliance  in  his  fleet,  which  was 
nearly  twice  as  numerous  as  that  of  Constantine. 
Licinius  had  assembled  350  ships  of  war,  levied,  in 
accordance  with  the  practice  of  Rome,  from  the  mar- 
itime countries  of  Asia  and  Egypt.  No  fewer  than 
130  came  from  Egypt  and  Libya,  1 10  from  Phoenicia 
and  Cyprus,  and  a  similar  quota  from  the  ports  of 


The  Downfall  of  Licinius         129 

Cilicia.  Ionia,  and  Bithynia.  The  galleys  were  prob- 
ably in  good  fighting  trim,  but  the  service  was  not  a 
willing  one,  and  the  fleet  was  as  badly  handled  as 
it  was  badly  stationed.  Amandus,  the  admiral  of 
Licinius,  had  kept  his  ships  cooped  up  in  the 
narrow  Hellespont,  thus  acting  weakly  on  the  defen- 
sive instead  of  boldly  seeking  out  the  enemy.  Con- 
stantine  entrusted  the  chief  command  of  his  various 
squadrons  to  his  son  Crispus,  whose  only  experience 
of  naval  matters  had  probably  been  obtained  from 
the  manoeuvres  of  the  war  galleys  on  the  Rhine.  But 
a  Roman  general  was  supposed  to  be  able  to  take 
command  on  either  element  as  circumstances  re- 
quired. In  the  present  case  Crispus  more  than  justi- 
fied his  father's  choice.  He  was  ordered  to  attack 
and  destroy  Amandus,  and  the  peremptoriness  of 
the  order  was  doubtless  due  to  the  difficulty  of  ob- 
taining supplies  for  so  large  an  army  by  land  trans- 
port only.  Two  actions  were  fought  on  two  successive 
days.  In  the  first  Amandus  had  both  wind  and  cur- 
rent in  his  favour  and  made  a  drawn  battle  of  it. 
The  next  day  the  wind  had  veered  round  to  the 
south,  and  Crispus,  closing  with  the  enemy,  destroyed 
130  of  their  vessels  and  5000  of  their  crews.  The 
passage  of  the  Hellespont  was  forced ;  Amandus 
with  the  remainder  of  his  fleet  fled  back  to  the  shel- 
ter of  Byzantium,  and  the  straits  were  open  for  the 
passage  of  Constantine's  transports. 

The  Emperor  pushed  the  siege  with  energy,  and 
plied  the  walls  so  vigorously  with  his  engines  that 
Licinius,  aware  that  the  capitulation  of  Byzantium 
could  not  long  be  postponed,  crossed  over  into  Asia 


1 30  Constantine 

to  escape  being  involved  in  its  fate.  Even  then  he 
was  not  utterly  despondent  of  success,  for  he  raised 
one  of  his  lieutenants,  Martinianus,  to  the  dignity  of 
Caesar  or  Augustus — a  perilous  distinction  for  any 
recipient  with  the  short  shrift  of  Valens  before  his 
eyes — and,  collecting  what  troops  he  could,  he  set 
his  fleet  and  army  to  oppose  the  crossing  of  Con- 
stantine when  Byzantium  had  fallen.  But  holding 
as  he  did  the  command  of  the  sea,  the  victor  found 
no  difficulty  in  effecting  a  landing  at  Chrysopolis, 
and  Licinius's  last  gallant  effort  to  drive  back  the  in- 
vader was  repulsed  with  a  loss  of  25,000  men.  Euse- 
bius,  in  an  exceptionally  foolish  chapter,  declares 
that  Licinius  harangued  his  troops  before  the  battle, 
bidding  them  carefully  keep  out  of  the  way  of  the 
sacred  Labarum,  under  which  Constantine  moved  to 
never-failing  victory,  or,  if  they  had  the  mischance 
to  come  near  it  in  the  press  of  battle,  not  to  look 
heedlessly  upon  it.  He  then  goes  on  to  ascribe  the 
victory  not  to  the  superior  tactical  dispositions  of  his 
chief  or  to  the  valour  of  his  men,  but  simply  and  solely 
to  the  fact  that  Constantine  was  "  clad  in  the  breast- 
plate of  reverence  and  had  ranged  over  against  the 
numbers  of  the  enemy  the  salutary  and  life-giving 
sign,  to  inspire  his  foes  with  terror  and  shield  himself 
from  harm."  *  We  suspect,  indeed,  that  far  too  little 
justice  has  been  done  to  the  good  generalship  of 
Constantine,  who,  by  his  latest  victory,  brought  to 
a  close  a  brilliant  and  entirely  successful  campaign 
over  an  Emperor  whose  stubborn  powers  of  resist- 

*  De  Vita  Const.,  ii.,  i6.     rd  6wrr}fnov  xdi  'QoaoTCoiov  6t]IJ.£ioVf 
S^TCep  ti  q)6(irjTpov  xdi  xaHcSv  djuvyrrjpiov. 


The  Downfall  of  Licinius         131 

Tance  and  dauntless  energy  even  in  defeat  rendered 

/^him  a  most  formidable  opponent. 

Licinius  fell  back  upon  Nicomedia.  His  army 
was  gone.  There  was  no  time  to  beat  up  new  re- 
cruits, for  the  conqueror  was  hard  upon  his  heels. 
He  had  to  choose,  therefore,  between  suicide,  sub- 
mission, and  flight.  He  would  perhaps  have  best 
consulted  his  fame  had  he  chosen  the  proud  Roman 
way  out  of  irreparable  disaster  and  taken  his  life. 
Instead  he  begged  that  life  might  be  spared  him. 
The  request  would  have  been  hopeless,  and  would 
probably  never  have  been  made,  had  he  not  pos- 
sessed in  his  wife,  Constantia,  a  very  powerful  advo- 
cate with  her  brother.  Constantia's  pleadings  were 
effectual :  Constantine  consented  to  see  his  beaten 
antagonist,  who  came  humbly  into  his  presence,  laid 
his  purple  at  the  victor's  feet,  and  sued  for  life  from 
the  compassion  of  his  master.  It  was  a  humiliating 
and  an  un-Roman  scene.  Constantine  promised 
forgiveness,  admitted  the  suppliant  to  the  Imperial 
table,  and  then  relegated  him  to  Thessalonica  to 
spend  the  remainder  of  his  days  in  obscurity.  Li- 
cinius did  not  long  survive.  Later  historians,  anx- 
ious to  clear  Constantine's  character  of  every  stain, 
accused  Licinius  of  plotting  against  the  generous 
Emperor  who  had  spared  him.  Others  declared 
that  he  fell  in  a  soldiers'  brawl :  one  even  says  that 
the  Senate  passed  a  decree  devoting  him  to  death. 
It  is  infinitely  more  probable  that  Constantine 
repented  of  his  clemency.  No  Roman  Emperor 
seems  to  have  been  able  to  endure  for  long  the 
existence  of  a  discrowned  rival,  however  impotent 


132  Constantine 

to  harm.  Eutropius  expressly  states  that  Licinius 
was  put  to  death  in  violation  of  the  oath  which  Con- 
stantine had  sworn  to  him.*  Eusebius  says  not  a 
word  of  Licinius's  life  having  been  promised  him; 
he  only  remarks,  "  Then  Constantine,  dealing  with 
the  accursed  of  GOD  and  his  associates  according  to 
the  rules  of  war,  handed  them  over  to  fitting  pun- 
ishment." f  A  pretty  euphemism  for  an  act  of 
assassination  ! 

So  died  Licinius,  unregretted  by  any  save  the 
zealous  advocates  of  paganism,  in  the  city  where  he 
himself  had  put  to  death  those  two  hapless  ladies, 
Prisca  and  Valeria.  The  best  character  sketch  of 
him  is  found  in  Aurelius  Victor,  who  describes  him 
as  grasping  and  avaricious,  rough  in  manners  and  of 
excessively  hasty  temper,  and  a  sworn  foe  to  culture, 
which  he  used  to  say  was  a  public  poison  and  pest 
{virus  et  pestem  publicum),  notably  the  culture 
associated  with  the  study  and  practice  of  the  law. 
Himself  of  the  humblest  origin,  he  was  a  good  friend 
to  the  small  farmers'  interests ;  while  he  was  a  mar- 
tinet of  the  strictest  type  in  all  that  related  to  the 
army.  He  detested  the  paraphernalia  of  a  court,  in 
which  Constantine  delighted,  and  Aurelius  Victor 
says  that  he  made  a  clean  sweep  {vehemens  domitor) 
of  all  eunuchs  and  chamberlains,  whom  he  described 
as  the  moths  and  shrew-mice  of  the  palace  {tineas 
soricesque  palatii).  Of  his  religious  policy  we  shall 
speak  elsewhere ;  of  his  reign  there  is  little  to  be 
said.     It  has  left  no  impress  upon  history,  and  Li- 

*  Contra  religionem  sacramenti  occisus  est,  x. ,  6, 
\De  Vita  Const.,  ii.,  i8. 


The  Downfall  of  Licinius         133 

cinius  is  only  remembered  as  the  Emperor  whose 
misfortune  it  was  to  stand  in  the  way  of  Constantino 
and  his  ambitions.  Constantine  threw  down  his 
statues ;  revoked  his  edicts ;  and  if  he  spared  his 
young  son,  the  Caesar  Licinianus,  the  clemency  was 
due  to  affection  for  the  mother,  not  to  pity  for  the 
child.  Martinianus,  the  Emperor  at  most  of  a  few 
weeks,  had  been  put  to  death  after  the  defeat  of 
Chrysopolis,  and  Constantine  reigned  alone  with  his 
sons.     The  Roman  Empire  was  united  once  more. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

LAST  DAYS   OF   PERSECUTION 

IN  a  previous  chapter  we  gave  a  brief  account  of 
the  terrible  sufferings  inflicted  upon  the  Church 
during  the  persecution  which  followed  the  edicts  of 
Diocletian.  They  continued  for  many  years  almost 
without  interruption,  but  with  varying  intensity. 
When,  for  example,  Diocletian  celebrated  his  Vicen- 
nalia  a  general  amnesty  was  proclaimed  which  must 
have  opened  the  prison  doors  to  many  thousands  of 
Christians.  Eusebius  expressly  states  that  the  am- 
nesty was  for  "  all  who  were  in  prison  the  world 
over,"  and  there  is  no  hint  that  liberty  was  made  con- 
ditional upon  apostasy.  None  the  less,  it  is  certain 
that  a  great  number  of  Christians  were  still  kept  in 
the  cells— on  the  pretext  that  they  were  specially 
obnoxious  to  the  civil  power — by  governors  of  strong 
anti-Christian  bias.  The  sword  of  persecution  was 
speedily  resumed  and  wielded  as  vigorously  as  before 
down  to  the  abdication  of  Diocletian  and  Maximian. 
Then  came  another  lull.  With  Constantius  as  the 
senior  Augustus  the  persecution  came  to  an  end  in 
the  West,  and  even  in  the  East  there  was  an  interval 
of  peace.  For  Maximin,  who  was  soon  to  develop 
134 


Last  Days  of  Persecution         135 

into  the  most  ferocious  of  all  the  persecutors, — so  St. 
Jerome  speaks  of  him  in  comparison  with  Decius  and 
Diocletian, — gave  a  brief  respite  to  the  Christians  in 
his  provinces  of  Egypt,  Cihcia,  Palestine,  and  Syria. 

"  When  I  first  visited  the  East,"  Maximin  wrote,  * 
some  years  later,  in  referring  to  his  accession,  "  I  found 
that  a  great  number  of  persons  who  might  have  been  useful 
to  the  State  had  been  exiled  to  various  places  by  the 
judges.  I  ordered  each  one  of  these  judges  no  longer  to 
press  hardly  upon  the  provincials,  but  rather  to  exhort 
them  by  kindly  words  to  return  to  the  worship  of  the 
gods.  While  my  orders  were  obeyed  by  the  magistrates, 
no  one  in  the  countries  of  the  East  was  exiled  or  ill- 
treated,  but  the  provincials,  won  over  by  kindness,  re- 
turned to  the  worship  of  the  gods." 

Direct  contradiction  is  given  to  this  boast  as  to 
the  number  of  Christian  apostates  by  the  fact  that, 
within  a  twelvemonth,  the  new  Caesar  grew  tired  of 
seeking  to  kill  Christianity  by  kindness  and  revoked 
his  recent  rescript  of  leniency.  Maximin  developed 
into  a  furious  bigot.  He  fell  wholly  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  more  fanatical  priests  and  became  in- 
creasingly devoted  to  magic,  divination,  and  the  black 
arts.  Lactantius  declares  that  not  a  joint  appeared 
at  his  table  which  had  not  been  taken  from  some 
victim  sacrificed  by  a  priest  at  an  altar  and  drenched 
with  the  wine  of  libation.  Edict  followed  edict  in 
rapid  succession,  until,  in  the  middle  of  306,  what 
Eusebius  describes  as  "a  second  declaration  of  war" 
was  issued,  which  ordered  every  magistrate  to  compel 

*  Eusebius,  Hist.  Eccles.,  ix.,  9. 


136  Constantine 

all  who  lived  within  his  jurisdiction  to  sacrifice  to 
the  gods  on  pain  of  being  burnt  alive.  House  to 
house  visitations  were  set  on  foot  that  no  creature 
might  escape,  and  the  common  informer  was  encour- 
aged by  large  rewards  to  be  active  in  his  detestable 
occupation.  It  would  seem  indeed  as  if  the  Christ- 
ians in  the  provinces  of  Maximin  suffered  far  more 
severely  than  any  of  their  brethren.  The  most 
frightful  bodily  mutilations  were  practised.  Batches 
of  Christians  were  sentenced  to  work  in  the  porphyry 
mines  of  Egypt  or  the  copper  mines  of  Phaenos  in 
Palestine,  after  being  hamstrung  and  having  their 
right  eyes  burnt  out  with  hot  irons.  The  evidence 
of  Lactantius,  who  says  that  the  confessors  had  their 
eyes  dug  out,  their  hands  and  feet  amputated,  and 
their  nostrils  and  ears  cut  off,  is  corroborated  by 
Eusebius  and  the  authors  of  the  Passions. 

Palestine  seems  to  have  had  two  peculiarly  brutal 
governors,  Urbanus  and  Firmilianus.  The  latter  in 
a  single  day  presided  at  the  execution  of  twelve 
Christians,  pilgrims  from  Egypt  on  their  way  to  suc- 
cour the  unfortunate  convicts  in  the  copper  mines 
of  Palestine,  whose  deplorable  condition  had  awak- 
ened the  active  sympathy  of  the  Christian  East. 
These  bands  of  pilgrims  had  to  pass  through  Cae- 
sarea,  where  the  officers  of  Firmilianus  were  on  the 
watch  for  them,  and  as  soon  as  they  confessed  that 
they  were  Christians  they  were  haled  before  the 
tribunal,  where  their  doom  was  certain.  A  distin- 
guishing feature  of  the  persecution  in  the  provinces 
of  Maximin  was  the  frequency  of  outrages  upon 
Christian  women  and  the  fortitude  with  which  many 


Last  Days  of  Persecution         137 

of  the  victims  committed  suicide  rather  than  suffer 
pollution.  The  story  of  St.  Pelagia  of  Antioch  is 
typical.  Maximin  sent  some  soldiers  to  conduct 
her  to  his  palace.  They  found  her  alone  in  her 
house  and  announced  their  errand.  With  perfect 
composure  this  girl  of  fifteen  asked  permission  to  re- 
tire in  order  to  change  her  dress,  and  then,  mount- 
ing to  the  roof,  threw  herself  down  into  the  street 
below.  Eusebius,  himself  an  eye-witness  of  this  per- 
secution, gives  many  a  vivid  story  of  the  fury  of 
Maximin  and  his  officials,  and  of  the  cold-blooded 
calculation  with  which  he  sought  to  draw  new  vic- 
tims into  the  net  of  the  law.  In  308  he  issued  an 
edict  ordering  every  city  and  village  thoroughly  to 
repair  any  temple  which,  for  whatever  reason,  had 
been  allowed  to  fall  into  ruins.  He  increased  ten- 
fold the  number  of  priesthoods,  and  insisted  upon 
daily  sacrifices.  The  magistrates  were  again  strictly 
enjoined  to  compel  men,  women,  children,  and  slaves 
alike  to  offer  sacrifice  and  partake  of  the  sacrificial 
food.  All  goods  exposed  for  sale  in  the  public 
markets  were  to  be  sprinkled  with  lustra!  water,  and 
even  at  the  entrance  to  the  public  baths,  officials 
were  to  be  placed  to  see  that  no  one  passed  through 
the  doors  without  throwing  a  few  grains  of  incense 
on  the  altar.  Maximin,  in  short,  was  a  religious 
bigot,  who  combined  with  a  zealous  observance  of 
pagan  ritual  a  consuming  hatred  of  Christianity. 

There  are  not  many  records  of  what  was  taking 
place  in  the  provinces  of  Galerius,  while  Maximin 
was  thus  terrorising  Syria  and  Egypt.  But  the 
Emperor  had  begun   to   see  that  the  persecution, 


{ 


138  Constantine 

upon  which  he  had  entered  with  such  zest  some 
years  before,  was  bound  to  end  in  failure.  The  ter- 
rible malady  which  attacked  him  in  310  would  tend 
to  confirm  his  forebodings.  Like  Antiochus  Epi- 
phanius,  Herod  the  Great,  and  Herod  Agrippa, 
Galerius  became,  before  death  released  him  from  his 
agony,  a  putrescent  and  loathsome  spectacle.  His 
physicians  could  do  nothing  for  him.  Imploring 
deputations  were  sent  to  beg  the  aid  of  Apollo  and 
^sculapius.  Apollo  prescribed  a  remedy,  but  the 
application  only  left  the  patient  worse,  and  Lactan- 
tius  quotes  with  powerful  effect  the  lines  from  Vir- 
gil which  describe  Laocoon  in  the  toils  of  the  ser- 
pents, raising  horror-stricken  cries  to  Heaven,  like 
some  wounded  bull  as  it  flies  bellowing  from  the 
altar.  Was  it  when  broken  by  a  year's  constant  an- 
guish that  Galerius  exclaimed  that  he  would  restore 
the  temple  of  God  and  make  amends  for  his  sin? 
Was  he,  as  Lactantius  says,  "  compelled  to  confess 
GOD  "  ?  Whether  that  be  so  or  not,  here  is  the  re- 
markable edict  which  the  shattered  Emperor  found 
strength  to  dictate.     It  deserves  to  be  given  in  full : 

"  Among  the  measures  which  we  have  constantly  taken 
for  the  well-being  and  advantage  of  the  State,  we  had 
wished  to  regulate  everything  according  to  the  ancient 
laws  and  public  discipline  of  the  Romans,  and  especially 
to  provide  that  the  Christians,  who  had  abandoned  the 
religion  of  their  ancestors,  should  return  to  a  better  frame 
of  mind. 

"  For,  from  whatever  reason,  these  Christians  were  the 
victims  of  such  wilfulness  and  folly  that  they  not  only 
refused  to  follow  the  ancient  customs,  which  very  likely 


Last  Days  of  Persecution         139 

their  own  forefathers  had  instituted,  but  they  made  laws 
for  themselves  according  to  their  fancy  and  caprice, 
and  gathered  together  all  kinds  of  people  in  different 
places. 

"  Eventually,  when  our  commands  had  been  published 
that  they  should  conform  to  long  established  custom, 
many  submitted  from  fear,  and  many  more  under  the 
compulsion  of  punishment. 

"  But  since  the  majority  have  obstinately  held  out  and 
we  see  that  they  neither  give  the  gods  their  worship  and 
due,  nor  yet  adore  the  God  of  the  Christians,  we  have 
taken  into  consideration  our  unexampled  clemency  and 
followed  the  dictation  of  the  invariable  mercifulness, 
which  we  shew  to  all  men. 

/  "  We  have,  therefore,  thought  it  best  to  extend  even  to 
\these  people  our  fullest  indulgence  and  to  give*  them 
^fleave  once  more  to  be  Christians,  and  rebuild  their 
/meeting  places,  provided  that  they  do  nothing  contrary 
(to  discipline. 

"  In  another  letter  we  shall  make  clear  to  the  magis- 
trates the  course  which  they  should  pursue. 
/^  "In  return  for  our  indulgence  the  Christians  will,  in 
\duty  bound,  pray  to  their  God  for  our  safety,  for  their 
yown,  and  for  that  of  the  State,  that  so  the  State  may 
^everywhere  be  safe  and  prosperous,  and  that  they  them- 
/selves  may  dwell  in  security  in  their  homes." 

This  extraordinary  edict  was  issued  at  Nicomedia 
on  the  last  day  of  April,  311.  It  is  as  abject  a  con- 
fession of  failure  as  could  be  expected  from  an 
Emperor.      Galerius    admits   that   the   majority  of 


*Ut  denuo  sint   Christiani  et  conve7iticula  cojiiponant,  ita  ut  ne 
quid  contra  disciplinam  agant. 


I40  Constantine 

Christians  have  stubbornly  held  to  their  faith  in  spite 
of  bitter  persecution,  and  now,  as  they  are  deter- 
mined to  sin  against  the  light  and  follow  their  own 
caprice,  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger,  he  will 
recognise  their  status  as  Christians  and  give  them 
the  right  of  assembly,  provided  they  do  not  offend 
against  public  discipline.  But  the  special  interest 
of  this  edict  lies  in  the  Emperor's  request  that  the 
Christians  will  pray  for  him,  in  the  despairing  hope 
■  that  Christ  may  succeed,  where  Apollo  has  failed, 
in  finding  a  remedy  for  his  grievous  case.  Galerius 
was  ready  to  clutch  at  any  passing  straw. 

The  edict  bore  the  names  of  Galerius,  of  Constan- 
tine, and  of  Licinius.  Maxentius,  who  at  this  time 
ruled  Italy,  was  not  recognised  by  Galerius,  so  the 
absence  of  his  name  causes  no  surprise.  Maximin's 
name  is  also  absent,  but  we  find  one  of  his  praefects, 
Sabinus,  addressing  shortly  afterwards  a  circular 
letter  to  all  the  Governors  of  Cilicia,  Syria,  and 
Egypt,  in  which  the  signal  was  given  to  stop  the 
persecution.  Like  Galerius,  Maximin  declared  that 
the  sole  object  of  the  Emperors  had  been  to  lead  all 
men  back  to  a  pious  and  regular  life,  and  to  restore 
to  the  gods  those  who  had  embraced  alien  rites  con- 
trary to  the  spirit  of  the  institutions  of  Rome.  Then 
the  letter  continued  : 

"  But  since  the  mad  obstinacy  of  certain  people  has 
reached  such  a  pitch  that  they  are  not  to  be  shaken 
in  their  resolution  either  by  the  justice  of  the  imperial 
command  or  by  the  fear  of  imminent  punishment,  and 
since,  actuated  by  these  motives,  a  very  large  number 
have  brought  themselves  into  positions  of  extreme  peril, 


Last  Days  of  Persecution         141 

it  has  pleased  their  Majesties  in  their  great  pity  and 
compassion  to  send  this  letter  to  your  Excellency, 

"Their  instructions  are  that  if  any  Christian  has  been 
apprehended,  while  observing  the  religion  of  his  sect, 
you  are  to  deliver  him  from  all  molestation  and  annoy- 
ance and  not  to  inflict  any  penalty  upon  him,  for  a  very 
long  experience  has  convinced  the  Emperors  that  there 
is  no  method  of  turning  these  people  from  their  madness. 

"  Your  Excellency  will  therefore  write  to  the  magis- 
trates, to  the  commander  of  the  forces,  and  to  the  town 
provosts,  in  each  city,  that  they  may  know  for  the  future 
that  they  are  not  to  interfere  with  the  Christians  any 
more." 

In  other  words,  the  prisons  were  to  be  emptied 
and  the  mad  sectaries  to  be  let  alone.  The  bigot 
was  obliged  to  bow,  however  reluctantly,  to  the 
wishes  and  commands  of  the  senior  Augustus,  even 
though  Galerius  was  a  broken  and  dying  man. 

Nevertheless,  within  six  months  we  find  Maximin 
devising  new  schemes  for  troubling  the  Christians. 
Eusebius  tells  us  with  what  joy  the  edict  of  tolera- 
tion had  been  welcomed,  with  what  triumph  the 
Christians  had  quitted  their  prisons,  and  with  what 
enthusiastic  exultation  the  bands  of  Christian  con- 
fessors, returning  from  the  mines  to  their  own  towns 
and  villages,  were  received  by  the  Christian  com- 
munities in  the  places  through  which  they  passed. 
Those  whose  testimony  to  their  faith  had  not  been  so 
sure  and  clear,  those  who  had  bowed  the  knee  to  Baal 
under  the  shadow  of  torture  and  death,  humbly  ap- 
proached their  stouter-hearted  brethren  and  implored 
their    intercession.     The    Church    rose    from    the 


142  Constantine 

persecution  proudly  and  confidently,  and  with  in- 
credible speed  renewed  its  suspended  services  and 
repaired  its  broken  organisation.  Maximin  issued  an 
order  forbidding  Christians  to  assemble  after  dark  in 
their  cemeteries,  as  they  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
doing,  in  order  to  celebrate  the  victory  of  their  mar- 
tyrs over  death.  Such  assemblies,  the  Emperor 
said,  were  subversive  of  morality:  they  were  to  be 
allowed  no  more.  This  must  have  warned  the  Chris- 
tians how  little  rehance  was  to  be  placed  in  the 
promises  of  Maximin,  and  shortly  afterwards  they  had 
another  warning.  Maximin  made  a  tour  through  his 
provinces  and  in  several  cities  received  petitions  in 
which  he  was  urged  to  give  an  order  for  the  absolute 
expulsion  of  all  Christians.  No  doubt  it  was  known 
that  such  a  request  would  be  well  pleasing  to  Maximin, 
but  at  the  same  time  it  undoubtedly  points  to  the  ex- 
istence of  a  strong  anti-Christian  feeling.  At  Antioch, 
which  was  under  the  governorship  of  Theotecnus,  the 
petitioners,  according  to  Eusebius,  said  that  the  ex- 
pulsion of  the  Christians  would  be  the  greatest  boon 
the  Emperor  could  confer  upon  them,  but  the  full 
text  of  one  of  these  petitions  has  been  found  among 
the  ruins  of  a  small  Lycian  township  of  the  name  of 
Aricanda.     It  runs  as  follows: 

"  To  the  Saviours  of  the  entire  human  race,  to  the  au- 
gust Caesars,  Galerius  Valerius  Maximinus.  Flavius 
Valerius  Constantinus,  Valerius  Licinianus  Licinius,  this 
petition  is  addressed  by  the  people  of  the  Lycians  and 
the  Pamphylians. 

"  Inasmuch  as  the   gods,  your  congeners,  O  divine 


Last  Days  of  Persecution         143 

Emperor,  have  always  crowned  with  their  manifest 
favours  those  who  have  their  reUgion  at  heart  and 
offer  prayers  to  them  for  the  perpetual  safety  of  our 
invincible  masters,  we  have  thought  it  well  to  approach 
your  immortal  Majesty  and  to  ask  that  the  Christians, 
who  for  years  have  been  impious  and  do  not  cease  to  be 
so,  may  be  finally  suppressed  and  transgress  no  longer, 
by  their  wicked  and  innovating  cult,  the  respect  that  is 
owing  to  the  gods. 

"  This  result  would  be  attained  if  their  impious  rites 
were  forbidden  and  suppressed  by  your  divine  and  eter- 
nal decree,  and  if  they  were  compelled  to  practise  the 
cult  of  the  gods,  your  congeners,  and  pray  to  them  on 
behalf  of  your  eternal  and  incorruptible  Majesty.  This 
would  clearly  be  to  the  advantage  and  profit  of  all  your 
subjects." 

Eusebius  records  two  replies  of  the  Emperor  to 
petitions  of  this  character.  One  is  contained  in  a 
letter  to  his  praefect,  Sabinus,  and  relates  to  Nico- 
media.  The  other  is  a  document  copied  by  Eusebius 
from  a  bronze  tablet  set  up  on  a  column  in  Tyre. 
Maximin  expatiates  at  great  length  on  the  debt 
which  men  owe  to  the  gods,  and  especially  to  Jupiter, 
the  presiding  deity  of  Tyre,  for  the  ordered  succes- 
sion of  the  seasons,  and  for  keeping  within  their  ap- 
pointed bounds  the  overwhelming  forces  of  Nature. 
If  there  have  been  calamities  and  cataclysms,  to 
what  else,  he  asks,  can  they  be  attributed  than  to 
the  "  vain  and  pestilential  errors  of  the  villainous 
Christians  ?  "  Those  who  have  apostatised  and  have 
been  delivered  from  their  blindness  are  like  people 
who  have  escaped  from  a  furious  storm  or  have  been 


144  Constantine 

cured  of  some  deadly  malady.  To  them  life  offers 
once  more  its  bounteous  blessings.  Then  the  Em- 
peror continues: 

"  But  if  they  still  persist  in  their  detestable  errors,  they 
shall  be  banished,  in  accordance  with  your  petition,  far 
from  your  city  and  your  territory,  that  so  this  city  of 
Tyre,  completely  purified,  as  you  most  properly  desire  it 
to  be,  may  yield  itself  wholly  to  the  worship  of  the  gods. 

"But  that  you  may  know  how  agreeable  your  petition 
has  been  to  us,  and  how,  even  without  petition  on  your 
part,  we  are  disposed  to  heap  favours  upon  you,  we  grant 
you  in  advance  any  favour  you  shall  ask,  however  great, 
in  reward  for  your  piety. 

"  Ask,  therefore,  and  receive,  and  do  so  without  hesita- 
tion. The  benefit  which  shall  accrue  to  your  city  will 
be  a  perpetual  witness  of  your  devotion  to  the  gods." 

Evidently  the  Christians  had  not  yet  come  to  the 
end  of  their  troubles.  Those  who  read  this  circular 
letter,  for  it  seems  to  have  been  sent  round  from  city 
to  city,  must  have  expected  the  persecution  to  break 
out  anew  at  any  moment.  We  do  not  know  to  what 
extent  the  edict  was  observed.  If  it  had  been 
generally  acted  upon,  we  should  certainly  have  heard 
more  of  it,  inasmuch  as  it  must  have  entailed  a  wide- 
spread exodus  from  the  provinces  of  Maximin.  But 
of  this  there  is  no  evidence.  We  imagine  rather  that 
this  circular  was  merely  a  preliminary  sharpening  of 
the  sword  in  order  to  keep  the  Christians  in  a  due 
state  of  apprehension. 

Maximin,  however,  continued  his  anti-Christian 
propaganda  with  unabated  zeal,   and  with  greater 


Last  Days  of  Persecution         145 

cunning  and  better  devised  system  than  before.  His 
court  at  Antioch  was  the  gathering  place  of  all  the 
priests,  magicians,  and  thaumaturgists  of  the  East, 
who  found  in  him  a  generous  patron.  We  hear  of  a 
new  deity  being  invented  by  Theotecnus,  or  rather 
of  an  old  deity  being  invested  with  new  attributes. 
Zeus  Philios,  or  Jupiter  the  Friendly  was  the  name 
of  this  god,  to  whom  a  splendid  statue  was  erected 
in  Antioch,  and  to  whose  shrine  a  new  priesthood, 
with  new  rites,  was  solemnly  dedicated.  The  god 
was  provided  with  an  attendant  oracle  to  speak  in 
his  name ;  what  more  natural  than  that  the  first  re- 
sponse should  order  the  banishment  of  all  Christians 
from  the  city  ?  Very  noteworthy,  too,  was  the  re- 
appearance of  a  vigorous  anti-Christian  literature. 
Maximin  set  on  his  pamphleteers  to  write  libellous 
parodies  of  the  Christian  doctrines  and  encouraged 
the  more  serious  controversialists  on  the  pagan 
side  to  attack  the  Christian  religion  wherever  it  was 
most  vulnerable.  The  most  famous  of  these  produc- 
tions was  one  which  bore  the  name  of  The  Acts  of 
Pilate  and  purported  to  be  a  relation  by  Pilate 
himself  of  the  life  and  conduct  of  Christ.  It  was 
really  an  old  pamphlet  rewritten  and  brought  up  to 
date,  full,  as  Eusebius  says,  of  all  conceivable  bias- 
phemy  against  Christ  and  reducing  Him  to  the  level 
of  a  common  malefactor.  Maximin  welcomed  it 
with  delight.  He  had  thousands  of  copies  written 
and  distributed ;  extracts  were  cut  on  brass  and 
stone  and  posted  up  in  conspicuous  places  ;  the  work 
was  appointed  to  be  read  frequently  in  public,  and — 
what   shews  most  of  all  the   fury  and   cunning  of 


146  Constantine 

Maximin — it  was  appointed  to  be  used  as  a  text-book 
in  schools  throughout  Asia  and  Egypt.  There  was 
no  more  subtle  method  of  training  bigots  and  poi- 
soning the  minds  of  the  younger  generation  amongst 
Christianity.  Some  of  the  Emperor's  devices,  how- 
ever, were  much  more  crude.  For  example,  the 
military  commandant  of  Damascus  arrested  half  a 
dozen  notorious  women  of  the  town  and  threatened 
them  with  torture  if  they  did  not  confess  that  they 
were  Christians,  and  that  they  had  been  present  at 
ceremonies  of  the  grossest  impurity  in  the  Christian 
assemblies.  Maximin  ordered  the  precious  confes- 
sion thus  extorted  to  be  set  up  in  a  prominent  place 
in  every  township. 

But  the  Emperor  was  not  merely  a  furious  bigot. 
There  is  evidence  that  he  fully  recognised  the  won- 
derful strength  of  the  Christian  ecclesiastical  organ- 
isation and  contrasted  it  with  the  essential  weakness 
of  the  pagan  system.  In  this  he  anticipated  the 
Emperor  Julian.  Paganism  was  anything  but  a 
church.  Its  framework  was  loose  and  disconnected. 
There  were  various  colleges  of  priests,  some  of 
which  were  powerful  and  had  branches  throughout 
the  Empire,  but  there  was  little  connection  between 

tem  save  that  of  a  common  ritual.  There  was  also 
tie  doctrine  save  in  the  special  mysteries,  where 
embership  was  preceded  by  formal  initiation, 
aximin  sought  to  institute  a  pagan  clergy  based 
upon  the  Christian  model,  with  a  definite  hierarchy 
from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  There  were  already 
chief  priests  of  the  various  provinces,  who  had  borne 
for  long  the  titles  of  Asiarch,  Pontarch,  Galatarch, 


Last  Days  of  Persecution         147 

and  Ciliciarch  in  their  respective  provinces.  Maximin 
developed  their  powers  on  the  model  of  those  of  the 
Christian  bishops,  giving  them  authority  over  sub- 
ordinates and  entrusting  them  with  the  duty  of 
seeing  that  the  sacrifices  were  duly  and  regularly 
offered.  He  tried  to  raise  the  standard  of  the  priest- 
hood by  choosing  its  members  from  the  best  families, 
by  insisting  on  the  priests  wearing  white  flowing 
robes,  by  giving  them  a  guard  of  soldiers  and  full 
powers  of  search  and  arrest. 

Evidently,  Maximin  was  something  more  than 
the  lustful,  bloodthirsty  tyrant  who  appears  in 
the  pages  of  Lactantius  and  the  ecclesiastical  his- 
torians. He  dealt  the  Church  much  shrewder — 
though  not  less  ineffectual — blows  than  his  col- 
leagues in  persecution.  With  such  an  Emperor 
another  appeal  to  the  faggot  and  the  sword  was 
inevitable,  and  the  death  of  Galerius  was  the 
signal  for  a  renewal  of  the  persecution.  This  time 
Maximin  struck  directly  at  the  most  conspicuous 
figures  in  the  Christian  Church  and  counted  among 
his  victims  Peter,  the  Patriarch  of  Alexandria,  and 
three  other  Egyptian  bishops — Methodus,  Bishop  of 
Tyre,  Basiliscus,  Bishop  of  Comana  in  Bithynia,  and 
Silvanus,  Bishop  of  Emesa  in  Phoenicia.  In  Egypt 
the  persecution  was  so  sharp  that  it  drew  Saint 
Antony  from  his  hermit's  cell  in  the  desert  to  suc- 
cour the  unfortunate  in  Alexandria.  He  escaped 
with  his  life,  probably  because  he  was  overlooked  or 
disdained,  or  because  the  mighty  influence  which  he 
was  to  exercise  upon  the  Church  had  not  yet  declared 
itself.     This  persecution  was  followed  by  a  terrible 


148  Constantine 

drought,  famine,  and  pestilence.  Eusebius,*  in  a 
vigorous  chapter,  describes  how  parents  were  driven 
by  hunger  to  sell  not  only  their  lands  but  also  their 
children,  how  whole  families  Avere  wiped  out,  how 
the  pestilence  seemed  to  mark  down  the  rich  for  its 
special  vengeance,  and  how  in  certain  townships  the 
inhabitants  were  driven  to  kill  all  the  dogs  within 
their  walls  that  they  might  not  feed  on  the  bodies  of 
the  unburied  dead.  Amid  these  horrors  the  Christ- 
ians alone  remained  calm.  They  alone  displayed  the 
supreme  virtue  of  charity  in  tending  the  suffering  and 
ministering  to  the  dying.  From  the  pagans  them- 
selves, says  Eusebius,  was  wrung  the  unwilling  admis- 
sion that  none  but  the  Christians,  in  the  sharp  test 
of  adversity,  shewed  real  piety  and  genuine  worship 
of  God.t 

Maximin's  reign,  however,  was  fast  drawing  to  a 
close.  After  becoming  involved  in  a  war  with  Tiri- 
dates  of  Armenia,  from  which  he  emerged  with  little 
credit  to  himself,  he  entered  into  an  alliance  with 
Maxentius,  the  ruler  of  Italy,  against  Constantine 
and  Licinius,  but  did  not  invade  the  territory 
of  the  latter  until  Maxentius  had  already  been  over- 
thrown. As  we  have  seen,  Maximin  was  utterly 
routed  and,  after  a  hurried  flight  to  beyond  the 
Taurus,  he  there,  according  to  Eusebius,:}:  gathered 
together  his  erstwhile  trusted  priests,  thaumaturgists, 
and  soothsayers,  and  slew  them  for  the  proved  false- 


*  Hist.  Eccles.,  ix.,  8. 

\  Evds/3si';  rs  ndt  /novov?  Bsods/SEi'^  Tovvovi  dXr/QcSi,  itpoi 
avTtav  kXEyx^£VTa<i  t(Sv  Ttpayf-idrcov,  o/iioXoyeiv, 
I  Hist.  Eccles.,  ix.,  10. 


Last  Days  of  Persecution         149 

hood  of  their  prophecy.  More  significant  still,  when 
he  found  that  his  doom  was  certain,  he  issued  a  last 
religious  edict  in  the  vain  hope  of  appeasing  the 
resentment  of  the  Christians  and  their  God.  The 
document  is  worth  giving  in  full: 

"  The  Emperor  Caesar  Caius  Valerius  Maximinus,  Ger- 
manicus,  Sarmaticus,  pious,  happy,  invincible,  august. 

"  We  have  always  endeavoured  by  all  means  in  our 
power  to  secure  the  advantage  of  those  who  dwell  in  our 
provinces,  and  to  contribute  by  our  benefits  at  once  to 
the  prosperity  of  the  State  and  to  the  well-being  of  every 
citizen.  Nobody  can  be  ignorant  of  this,  and  we  are 
confident  that  each  one  who  puts  his  memory  to  the  test, 
is  persuaded  of  its  truth. 

"  We  found,  however,  some  time  ago  that,  in  virtue  of 
the  edict  published  by  our  divine  parents,  Diocletian  and 
Maximian,  ordering  the  destruction  of  the  places  where 
the  Christians  were  in  the  habit  of  assembling,  many 
excesses  and  acts  of  violence  had  been  committed  by  our 
public  servants  and  that  the  evil  was  being  increasingly 
felt  by  our  subjects  every  day,  inasmuch  as  their  goods 
were,  under  this  pretext,  unwarrantably  seized. 

"Consequently,we  declared  last  year  by  letters  addressed 
to  the  Governors  of  the  Provinces  that  if  any  one  wished 
to  attach  himself  to  this  sect  and  practise  this  religion,  he 
should  be  allowed  to  please  himself  without  interference 
and  no  one  should  say  him  nay,  and  the  Christians 
should  enjoy  complete  liberty  and  be  sheltered  from  all 
fear  and  all  suspicion. 

"  However,  we  have  not  been  able  entirely  to  shut  our 
eyes  to  the  fact  that  certain  of  the  magistrates  misunder- 
stood our  instructions,  with  the  result  that  our  subjects 
distrusted  our  words  and  were  nervous  about  resuming 


I50  Constantine 

the  religion  of  their  choice.  That  is  why,  in  order  to  do 
away  with  all  disquietude  and  equivocation  for  the  future, 
we  have  resolved  to  publish  this  edict,  by  which  all  are 
to  understand  that  those  who  wish  to  follow  this  sect 
have  full  liberty  to  do  so,  and  that,  by  the  indulgence  of 
our  Majesty,  each  man  may  practise  the  religion  he  pre- 
fers or  that  to  which  he  is  accustomed. 

"  It  is  also  permitted  to  them  to  rebuild  the  houses  of 
the  LORD.  Moreover,  so  that  there  may  be  no  mistake 
about  the  scope  of  our  indulgence,  we  have  been  pleased 
to  order  that  all  houses  and  places,  formerly  belonging 
to  the  Christians,  which  have  either  been  confiscated  by 
the  order  of  our  divine  parents,  or  occupied  by  any 
municipality,  or  sold  or  given  away,  shall  return  to  their 
original  ownership,  so  that  all  men  may  recognise  our 
piety  and  our  solicitude." 

The  bigot  must  have  been  brought  very  low  and 
reduced  to  the  last  depths  of  despair  before  he  set 
his  seal  to  such  a  document  as  this.  One  can  see 
that  it  was  drawn  up  by  Maximin  with  a  copy  of  the 
Edict  of  Milan  before  him,  and  that  he  hoped,  by 
this  tardy  and  clumsy  recognition  of  the  principle  of 
absolute  liberty  of  conscience  for  all  men,  to  make 
the  Christians  forget  his  brutalities.  Doubtless,  the 
Christians  of  Cilicia  and  Syria  looked  to  Constantine 
in  far  off  Gaul  as  a  model  prince  and  emperor,  and 
heard  with  joy  of  the  steady  advance  of  Constantine's 
ally,  Licinius.  The  latter  would  come  in  their  eyes 
in  the  guise  of  a  liberator,  and  prayers  for  his  success 
would  be  offered  up  in  every  Christian  church  of  the 
persecuted  East.  Maximin  sought  to  repurchase  their 
loyalty  :  it  was  too  late.     His  absurd  pretext  that  his 


Last  Days  of  Persecution         151 

orders  had  been  misunderstood  by  his  provincial 
governors  would  deceive  no  one.  He  had  been  the 
shrewdest  enemy  with  whom  the  Church  had  had  to 
cope;  his  edict  of  recantation  was  read  with  chilly 
suspicion  or  cold  contempt,  which  was  changed  into 
hymns  of  rejoicing  when  the  Christians  heard  that 
the  tyrant  had  poisoned  himself  and  died  in  agony, 
while  his  conqueror,  Licinius,  had  drowned  the  fallen 
Empress  in  the  Orontes  and  put  to  death  her  child- 
ren, a  boy  of  eight  and  a  girl  of  seven.  Those  who 
had  suffered  persecution  for  ten  years  may  be  par- 
doned their  exultation  that  there  was  no  one  left 
alive  to  perpetuate  the  names  of  their  persecutors.* 
Throughout  this  time  the  West  had  escaped  very 
lightly.  Even  Maxentius  had  begun  his  reign  by 
seeking  to  secure  the  good-will  of  the  Christians. 
Eusebius,  indeed,  makes  the  incredible  statement f 
that  in  order  to  please  and  flatter  the  Roman  people 
he  pretended  to  embrace  the  Christian  faith  and 
"  assumed  the  mask  of  piety."  Probably  all  he  did 
was  to  leave  the  Christians  of  Rome  in  peace.  The 
chair  of  St.  Peter  had  remained  empty  for  four  years 
after  the  death  of  Bishop  Marcellinus.  In  308  Mar- 
cellus  was  elected  to  fill  it  and  the  Church  was 
organised  afresh.  But  it  was  rent  with  internal  dis- 
sensions. There  was  a  large  section  which  insisted 
that  the  brethren  who  had  been  found  weak  during 
the  recent  persecution  should  be  received  back  into 


*  Hoc  modo  deus  universos  persecutores  nominis  siii  debellazdt^  ut 
eorum  nee  stirps  nee  radix  ulla  remaneret, — De  Murt.  Per  see., 
c.  49. 

\  Hist.  Eeeles.,  viii.,  14. 


152  Constantine 

the  fold  without  penance  and  reproach.  Marcellus 
stood  out  for  discipline  ;  the  quarrel  became  so  ex- 
acerbated that  Maxentius  exiled  the  Bishop,  who 
shortly  afterwards  died.  A  priest  named  Eusebius 
was  then  chosen  Pontiff,  but  the  schismatics  elected 
a  Pontiff  of  their  own,  Heraclius  by  name,  and  the 
rival  partisans  quarrelled  and  fought  in  the  streets. 
Maxentius,  with  strict  impartiality,  exiled  both. 
The  record  of  this  schism  is  preserved  in  the  curious 
epitaph  composed  by  Pope  Damasus  for  the  tomb 
of  Eusebius: 

"Heraclius  forbade  the  lapsed  to  bewail  their  sins; 
Eusebius  taught  them  to  repent  and  weep  for  their 
wrong-doing.  The  people  were  divided  into  factions, 
raging  and  furious:  then  came  sedition,  bloodshed,  war, 
discord,  strife.*  Forthwith  both  were  driven  away  by 
the  cruelty  of  the  tyrant.  While  the  Bishop  preserved 
intact  the  bonds  of  peace,  he  endured  his  exile  gladly 
on  the  Trinacrian  shores,  knowing  that  God  was  his 
judge,  and  so  passed  from  this  world  and  from  life." 

On  the  confession  of  Damasus  himself,  the  state 
of  the  Roman  Church  warranted  the  interference  of 
Maxentius  if  it  resulted  in  "sedition,  bloodshed, 
war,  discord,  and  strife,"  and  the  "  cruelty  of  the  ty- 
rant "  in  this  particular  case  is  not  proven.  Euse- 
bius died  in  Sicily  in  310;  in  the  following  year 
Miltiades  was  elected  Bishop,  and  Maxentius  re- 
stored to  the  Roman  Christians  their  churches  and 
cemeteries,  which  for  eight  years  had  been  in  the 
hands  of  the  civil  authorities. 

*  Scindittir  in  partes  populus  gliscente  furore;  Seditio,  ccsdes,  hel- 
ium, discordia,  lites. 


Last  Days  of  Persecution         153 

The  overthrow  of  Maxentius  by  Constantine,  the 
destruction  of  Maximin  by  Licinius,  the  publication 
of  the  Edict  of  Milan,  and  the  apparent  sincerity  of 
the  two  Emperors  in  their  anxiety  to  restore  peace 
and  security,  were  naturally  hailed  by  the  Christ- 
ians throughout  the  Empire  with  the  liveliest  joy. 
On  every  side  stately  churches  began  to  rise  from 
the  ground,  and  as  the  triumph  of  Christianity  over 
its  enemies  was  incontestable,  converts  came  flocking 
in  by  the  thousand  to  receive  what  Eusebius  calls 
"  the  mysterious  signs  of  the  Saviour's  Passion."  The 
only  troublers  of  the  Church  were  members  of  the 
Church  herself,  like  the  extravagant  Donatists  in 
Africa.  The  canons  of  the  Council  of  Ancyra,  which 
was  held  soon  after  the  death  of  Maximin,  shew 
how  the  ecclesiastical  authorities  imposed  varying 
penances  upon  those  who  had  shrunk  from  their 
duty  as  soldiers  of  Christ  in  the  recent  persecution, 
varying,  that  is  to  say,  according  to  the  extent 
of  their  shortcomings.  Some  had  apostatised  and 
themselves  turned  persecutors ;  some  had  sacrificed 
at  the  first  command ;  some  had  endured  prison,  but 
had  shrunk  from  torture;  some  had  suffered  torture, 
but  quailed  before  the  stake ;  some  had  bribed  the 
executioners  only  to  make  a  show  of  torturing  them ; 
some  had  attended  the  sacrificial  feasts,  but  had  sub- 
stituted other  meats.  The  punishments  range  from 
ten  years  of  probation  and  every  degree  of  penance, 
down  to  a  few  months'  deprivation  of  the  comforts 
and  communions  of  the  Church. 

New  dangers,  however,  speedily  threatened.  Con- 
stantine and  Licinius  quarrelled  between  themselves 


154  Constantine 

and,  after  two  stubborn  battles,  agreed  upon  a  fresh 
division  of  the  world.  For  eight  years,  from  315  to 
323,  this  partition  lasted,  but,  as  the  Emperors  again 
drifted  apart,  Licinius  became  more  and  more  anti- 
Christian.  His  rivalry  with  Constantine  accounts  for 
the  change.  Licinius  suspected  Constantine  of  in- 
triguing with  his  Christian  subjects  just  as  Constan- 
tine regarded  the  pagan  element  in-his  own  provinces 
as  the  natural  focus  of  disaffection  against  his  rule. 
Licinius  had  no  definite  Christian  beliefs ;  he  had 
been  the  friend  and  nominee  of  Galerius ;  and,  like 
Galerius,  he  never  got  rid  of  the  suspicion  that  the 
(christian  assemblies  were  a  danger  to  the  public 
isecurity.  The  Christians  had  aided  him  against 
Maximin :  he  thought  they  would  do  the  same  for 
Constantine  against  himself.  Eusebius*  likens  him 
to  a  twisted  snake,  wriggling  along  and  concealing 
its  poisoned  fangs,  not  daring  to  attack  the  Church 
openly  for  fear  of  Constantine,  but  dealing  it  con- 
stant and  insidious  blows. 

The  simile  was  well  chosen.  Licinius  seems  to 
have  opened  his  campaign  against  the  Christians  by 
forbidding  the  bishops  in  his  provinces  to  leave  their 
dioceses  and  take  part  in  their  usual  synods  and 
councils.  They  were  to  remain  at  home,  he  said, 
and  mind  their  own  business  and  not  plot  treason 
against  their  Emperor  under  the  pretext  of  perfecting 
the  discipline  of  the  Church.  Another  edict,  which 
came  with  poor  grace  from  a  man  whose  own 
excesses  were  notorious,  forbade  Christian  men  and 
women    to    meet    for    common    worship    in    their 

*  De   Vita  Constant.,  ii.,  I. 


Last  Days  of  Persecution         155 

churches :  they  were  to  v/orship  apart,  so  that  their 
morals  might  not  be  exposed  to  danger.  On  the  same 
pretext,  bishops  and  priests  were  only  allowed  to  give 
teaching  and  consolation  to  their  own  sex  ;  Christian 
women  must  find  women  teachers  and  advisers.  Eu- 
sebius  tells  us*  that  these  edicts  excited  universal 
ridicule.  It  was  too  late  to  revive  the  old  stories  of 
gross  immorality  taking  place  at  the  communion 
services,  and  there  was  fresh  cause  for  mocking  laugh- 
ter when  Licinius  forbade  the  Christians  to  assemble 
in  their  churches  within  the  towns  and  ordered  them 
to  go  outside  the  gates  and  meet,  if  they  must  meet, 
in  the  open  air.  This  was  necessary,  he  said,  on  the 
grounds  of  public  health ;  the  atmosphere  beyond 
the  gates  was  purer.  Licinius's  theory  of  hygiene  was 
perfectly  sound ;  its  application  was  ludicrous. 

These  were  the  first  steps  leading,  as  his  subjects 
must  have  known  only  too  well,  straight  to  persecu- 
tion. After  a  time  Licinius  threw  over  bodily  the 
Edict  of  Milan.  He  purged  his  court  and  his  army 
in  the  old  way.  The  choice  was  sacrifice  or  dismissal, 
and  some  pretext  was  usually  made  to  tack  on  to 
of^cial  dismissal  a  confiscation  of  goods.  Licinius, 
says  Eusebius,  thirsted  for  gold  like  a  very  Tanta- 
lus. Aurelius  Victor  saysf  he  had  all  the  mean, 
sordid  avarice  of  a  peasant.  And  the  Christians,  of 
course,  were  fair  game.  He  pillaged  their  churches, 
robbed  them  of  their  goods,  sentenced  them  to  exile 
and  to  the  mines,  or  ruined  them  just  as  effectually 
by  insisting  on  their  becoming  magistrates.     Blood- 

*  De  Vita  Constant,,  i.,  53. 

\  Huic  parcimonia  et  ea  quidem  agrestis. 


156  Constantine 

shed  followed,  and  Licinius  aimed  his  severest 
blows  at  the  bishops.  He  accused  them  of  omitting 
his  name  in  their  prayers  for  the  welfare  of  the  Em- 
peror and  the  State,  though  they  carefully  remem- 
bered that  of  Constantine  ;  and,  if  none  were  actually 
put  to  death,  many  suffered  imprisonment,  torture, 
and  mutilation.  The  story  of  the  martyrs  and  con- 
fessors in  the  Licinian  persecution  is  very  like  that 
of  those  who  suffered  under  Diocletian  and  Maximin. 
But  the  fate  of  the  forty  soldier  martyrs  of  the 
Twelfth  Legion  {Fidnimatd)  deserves  special  men- 
tion. They  had  refused  to  sacrifice,  and,  by  order  of 
their  general,  were  stripped  naked  and  ordered  to 
remain  throughout  a  winter's  night  upon  a  frozen 
pond,  exposed  to  the  elements.  At  the  side  of  the 
pond  was  a  building,  where  the  water  for  the  town 
baths  was  heated.  Apparently  no  guard  was  kept. 
The  martyrs  were  free  to  make  their  way  to  the 
warmth  and  shelter  if  they  wished  it,  but  only  at 
the  price  of  apostasy.  One  of  them,  after  enduring 
bravely  for  many  hours,  crawled  towards  the  warmth, 
but  died  of  exhaustion  as  soon  as  he  had  crossed  the 
threshold.  The  sight  so  affected  the  pagan  attend- 
ant of  the  bath  that  he  flung  off  his  clothes  in  uncon- 
trollable emotion,  and  with  the  shout,  "  I  too  am  a 
Christian,"  took  the  place  of  the  weak  brother  who 
had  just  lost  the  martyr's  crown.  In  the  morning 
the  forty  were  found  dead  and  their  bodies  were 
burnt  at  the  stake.  It  was  said  that  one  of  them 
was  found  to  be  still  breathing,  and  the  executioners 
put  him  apart  from  the  rest.  His  mother,  afraid  lest 
he  should  miss  entering  heaven  by  the  side  of  his 


Last  Days  of  Persecution         i57 

brave  companions  in  glory,  herself  placed  him  in  the 
cart  to  be  borne  to  the  stake. 

Another  moving  story  of  the  Licinian  persecution 
is  that  of  Gordius  of  Caesarea,  in  Cappadocia.  He 
had  fled  from  his  home  to  live  the  life  of  a  hermit 
among  the  mountains,  when  suddenly  an  impulse 
came  upon  him  to  return  and  testify  to  the  truth. 
The  people  were  all  assembled  in  the  Circus,  intent 
upon  some  public  spectacle,  when  an  uncouth  figure 
was  seen  to  move  slowly  down  the  marble  steps  and 
then  pass  out  into  the  centre  of  the  arena.  A  hush 
fell  upon  the  multitude,  as  the  hermit  was  recognised 
and  dragged  before  the  tribunal  of  the  Governor.  "  I 
have  come,"  he  said,  "  to  shew  how  little  I  think  of 
your  edicts  and  to  confess  my  faith  in  Jesus  Christ, 
and  I  have  chosen  this  moment,  O  Governor,  be- 
cause I  know  your  cruelty,  which  surpasses  that  of 
all  other  men."  They  put  him  to  the  torture:  he 
delighted  in  his  pain.  "  The  more  you  torture  me," 
he  said,  "  the  greater  will  be  my  reward.  There  is  a 
bargain  between  God  and  us.  Each  pang  and  tor- 
ment that  we  suffer  here  will  be  rewarded  there  by 
increased  glory  and  happiness." 

Licinius  had  thus,  like  Maximin,  made  himself  the 
champion  of  the  old  religion  and  the  rehgious  reac- 
tionaries. When  in  323  war  again  broke  out  between 
himself  and  Constantine,  it  was  as  the  professed  en-^ 
emy  of  Christianity  and  its  God  that  he  took  the 
field.  The  war  was  a  war  of  ambition  on  both  sides, 
but  it  was  also  a  war  between  the  two  religions.  We 
have  mentioned  elsewhere  the  oath  which  Licinius 
took  before  the  battle,  when  he  vowed  that  if  the 


15S  Constantine 

gods  gave  him  the  victory  he  would  extirpate  root 
and  branch  the  Christian  religion.  Fate  gave  him 
no  opportunity  to  fulfil  his  promise.  Defeated  at 
Adrianople  and  at  Chrysopolis,  and  then  exiled  to 
Thessalonica,  Licinius  had  not  many  months  to 
live.  Before  he  died  he  saw  his  pagan  councillors 
pay  for  their  folly  with  their  lives  and  heard  the  re- 
joicings of  the  Christians  of  the  East  at  the  fall  of 
the  last  of  their  pagan  persecutors.  The  Church  at 
last  had  won  her  freedom  and  was  to  suffer  at  the 
hands  of  the  State  no  more.  Eusebius  has  fortu- 
nately preserved  for  us  the  text  of  the  edict  addressed 
by  Constantine  after  his  victory  to  the  inhabitants 
of  Palestine,  recalling  from  exile,  from  the  mines, 
and  from  servitude  the  Christian  victims  of  the 
recent  persecution,  restoring  their  property  to  those 
who  had  suffered  confiscation,  offering  to  soldiers 
who  had  been  expelled  in  disgrace  from  the  army 
either  a  return  to  their  old  rank  or  the  certificate 
of  honourable  discharge,  and  giving  back  to  the 
churches  without  diminution  the  corporate  posses- 
sions of  which  they  had  been  robbed.  Constantine 
not  merely  passed  the  sponge  over  the  administrative 
acts  of  Licinius :  he  granted  large  subsidies  to  the 
bishops  who  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of  "  the  dra- 
gon," and  himself  wrote  to  "his  dearest  beloved 
brother,"  Eusebius  of  Caesarea,  urging  him  to  see 
that  the  bishops,  elders,  and  deacons  in  his  neigh- 
bourhood were  "  active  and  enthusiastic  in  the  work 
of  the  Church."  * 


*  dTtovSdZeiv  Ttepi  rd  spy  a  ttSv  eHK\rj6i^v, — De  Vita  Const. 
ii.,  46. 


CHAPTER  IX 

CONSTANTINE   AND   THE   DONATISTS 

IF  Constantine  hoped  that  by  the  Edict  of  Milan 
he  had  stilled  the  voice  of  religious  controversy, 
he  was  speedily  disillusioned.  He  was  now  to  find 
the  peace  of  the  Church  violently  disturbed  by  those 
belonging  to  her  communions,  and  the  hatreds  of 
Christians  against  one  another  almost  as  menacing 
to  the  tranquillity  of  the  imperial  rule  as  had  been 
the  bitter  strife  of  pagan  and  Christian.  In  the  same 
year  (313)  he  received  an  appeal  from  certain  African 
bishops  imploring  him  to  appoint  a  commission  of 
Gallican  bishops  to  settle  certain  difficulties  which 
had  arisen  in  Africa.  The  Donatist  schism,  which  was 
destined  to  last  for  more  than  a  century,  had  begun. 
Its  rise  may  be  traced  in  a  few  words.  Northern 
Africa  had  long  been  the  home  of  a  perfervid  religious 
fanaticism.  Montanism  and  Novatianism  had  found 
there  their  most  violent  adherents,  to  whom  there 
was  something  peculiarly  attractive  in  extravagant 
protest  against  the  laxity  or  the  liberalism  of  the 
Church  elsewhere,  and  in  emphatic  insistence  on  the 
narrowness  of  the  way  which  leads  to  salvation. 
Those  who  set  up  the  most  impossible  standard  of 
159 


i6o  Constantine 

attainment ;  those  who  demanded  from  the  Christian 
the  most  absolute  spotlessness  of  life ;  those  who 
insisted  most  strenuously  on  the  enormity  of  sin  and 
made  fewest  allowances  for  the  weakness  of  humanity 
— these  were  surest  of  being  heard  most  gladly  in 
northern  Africa.  During  the  persecution  of  Dio- 
cletian and  Maximian  many  of  the  African  Christians 
had  ostentatiously  courted  martyrdom.  According 
to  Catholic  authors,  such  martyrdom  had  been  sought 
not  only  by  saints,  but  by  men  of  immoral  and  dis- 
solute life,  who  thought  to  purge  the  stains  of  a  sinful 
career  by  dying  in  the  odour  of  sanctity.  Others, 
again,  while  not  prepared  to  die  for  the  faith,  were 
not  unwilling  to  suffer  imprisonment  for  it,  inasmuch 
as  their  fellow-Christians  looked  well  after  the 
creature  comforts  of  those  who  languished  in  gaol. 
Mensurius,  Bishop  of  Carthage  and  Primate  of  Africa, 
strongly  disapproved  of  these  proceedings.  He  dis- 
countenanced the  fanaticism,  which  he  knew  to  be 
the  besetting  weakness  of  his  people  ;  refused  to 
recognise  as  martyrs  those  who  had  provoked  death  ; 
and  checked,  as  far  as  possible,  the  indiscriminate 
charity  of  his  flock.  If  his  critics  are  to  be  believed, 
Mensurius  had  resort  to  a  trick  in  order  to  save  the 
Holy  Books  of  his  own  cathedral  and  thus  escape 
the  choice  of  being  a  traditor  or  of  suffering  for  con- 
science' sake.  It  was  said  that  when  the  ofificers  of 
the  civil  power  demanded  the  Holy  Books  in  his 
keeping,  he  handed  over  to  them  a  number  of  heretical 
volumes,  which  were  at  once  burnt,  while  the  Sacred 
Scriptures  were  carefully  concealed.  It  is  not  sur- 
prising, therefore,  to  find  that  Mensurius  was  charged 


Constantine  and  the  Donatists     i6i 

with  actual  persecution  of  those  Christians  who  had 
a  sterner  sense  of  duty  than  himself. 

It  is  manifest,  however,  from  what  took  place  at  a 
synod  of  bishops  held  in  Cirta  in  305  that  many  of 
the  natural  leaders  of  the  African  Church  had  quailed 
before   the   persecution    of    Diocletian.     They   had 
assembled,  under  the  presidency  of  Secundus,  Bishop 
of  Tigisis  and  Primate  of  Numidia,  in  order  to  fill 
the  vacant  see  of  Cirta.     Secundus  opened  the  pro- 
ceedings by  inviting  all  present  to  clear  themselves 
of   the   charge   of   having   surrendered    their    Holy 
Books,  and  began  to  put  the  question  directly  to 
Teach   in   turn.     Donatus   of    Mascula    returned    an 
^  evasive  answer,  and  said  that  he  was  responsible  only 
(jio  God.     Many  pleaded  that  they  had  substituted 
other  books  for  the  Scriptures ;  Victor  of  Russicas 
alone  confessed  that  he  had  handed  over  the  Four 
Gospels.     "  Valentinianus,  the  Curator,  himself  com- 
pelled me  to  send  them,"  he  said  ;  "  pardon  me  this 
fault,  even  as  God  pardons  me."     Then  came  the 
turn    of    Purpurius,    Bishop   of   Limata.     Secundus 
accused  him  not  of  being  a  traditor,  but  of  the  murder 
of  two  of  his  nephews.    Purpurius  stormed  with  rage. 
He  vowed  that  he  would  not  be  browbeaten,  and 
declared  that  Secundus  was  no  better  than  his  fel- 
lows and  had  purchased  his  own  immunity,  like  the 
rest  of  them,  by  surrendering  the  Scriptures.     As  for 
^  murdering  his  nephews,  the  charge  was  true.     "  I  did 
\  kill  them,"  he  said,/  and  I  kill  all  who  stand  in  my 
(  way."/  This  candid  avowal  seems  to  have  occasioned 
no  surprise  among  the  members  of  this  extraordinary 
synod  ;  they  were  all  too  indignant  with  Secundus 


1 62  Constantine 

for  raising  inconvenient  questions  and  pretending  to 
a  sanctity  beyond  his  colleagues.  Eventually,  another 
nephew  of  Secundus  threatened  that  they  would  all 
withdraw  from  his  communion  and  make  a  schism 
{recedere  et  scJiisma  facere\  unless  he  let  the  matter 
drop.  "  What  business  is  it  of  yours  what  each  has 
done  ?  "  asked  the  outspoken  nephew.  "  It  is  to  God 
that  each  must  tender  his  account."  The  president 
thereupon  drew  in  his  horns,  pronounced  the  acquit- 
tal of  the  accused,  and  with  a  general  murmur  of 
"  Deo  gratias^'  they  proceeded  to  the  election  of  a 
bishop.  Their  choice  fell  upon  Sylvanus,  himself  a 
traditor,  much,  it  is  said,  to  the  indignation  of  the 
people  of  Cirta,  who  raised  cries  of,  "  He  is  a  traditor  : 
let  another  be  elected.  We  want  our  bishop  to  be 
pure  and  upright."  Sylvanus  had  surrendered,  with- 
out even  a  show  of  compulsion,  one  of  the  sacred 
silver  lamps  from  the  altar  of  his  church.  It  is  more 
than  possible  that  the  report  of  the  proceedings  at 
this  synod,  which  is  found  only  in  works  written 
specifically — but  by  episcopal  hands — against  the 
Donatists,  is  highly  exaggerated.  Among  the  bishops 
present  at  Cirta  were  those  who,  a  few  years  later, 
were  the  principal  leaders  of  the  Donatist  schism. 
But,  even  when  all  allowances  are  made  for  party 
colouring,  the  picture  it  gives  of  the  Numidian 
Church  is  far  from  flattering. 

During  the  life  of  Mensurius  overt  schism  was 
avoided,  though  the  Church  of  Carthage  was  by  no 
means  untroubled.  For  even  before  the  persecution 
broke  out,  a  certain  lady  named  Lucilla  had  fallen 
under  the  censure  of  the  ecclesiastical  authorities, 


Constantine  and  the  Donatists     163 

and  had  left  the  fold  in  high  dudgeon.  She  became 
the  lady  patroness  of  the  malcontent  Christians  of 
Carthage  and  the  prime  mover  in  any  ecclesiastical 
intrigue  that  was  afoot.  She  had  been  wont,  before 
taking  the  Eucharist,  to  kiss  the  doubtful  relic  of  a 
martyr,  and  she  had  set  greater  store  on  the  efificacy 
of  this  unregistered  bone  than  on  the  virtues  of  the 
sacred  chalice.  It  was  not,  of  course,  for  relic  wor-. 
ship  that  Caecilianus,  the  Archdeacon,  rebuked  her, 
for  the  early  Church  everywhere  acknowledged  its 
lintercessional  value,  and  it  was  the  usual  practice  for 
an  officiating  priest,  before  celebrating,  to  kiss  the 
relics  that  were  placed  on  the  high  altar.  Lucilla 
was  reproved  because  her  relic  was  not  recognised 
by  the  Church.*  It  was  doubtful  whether  it  had  be- 
longed to  a  martyr  at  all,  and,  in  any  case,  its  iden- 
tity had  not  been  duly  authenticated.  But  before 
Mensurius  could  deal  with  this  revolted  daughter 
the  tempest  of  persecution  broke  over  Africa.  The 
angry  and  insulting  epithets  with  which  the  Catholic 
historians  have  loaded  Lucilla  are  perhaps  the  best 
testimony  to  her  ability  and  influence.  She  was  very 
rich  and  a  born  intriguante  {pecuniosissima  et  facti- 
osissinia),  and  as  she  had  what  she  considered  to  be 
a  personal  insult  to  avenge,  she  was  as  willing  as  she 
was  competent  to  cau.se  trouble  and  mischief. 

Shortly  before  the  overthrow  of  Maxentius,  one  of 
Mensurius's  deacons  issued  a  defamatory  libel  against 
the  Emperor  and  then  took  sanctuary  at  Carthage. 
The  Bishop  refused  to  surrender  him  and  was  per- 

*  Os  nescio  cujus  hominis  mortui,  et  si  martyris,  sed  necdum  vindi- 
cati. 


1 64  Constantine 

emptorily  summoned  to  Rome.  Evidently  expect- 
ing that  the  Emperor  would  condemn  him  and  order 
the  confiscation  of  the  holy  vessels  of  his  church, 
Mensurius  secretly  handed  them  over  to  the  custody 
of  certain  elders  in  whose  honesty  he  thought  he 
could  place  implicit  reliance.  But  he  took  the  pre- 
caution— a  wise  one,  as  it  subsequently  proved — to 
make  an  inventory,  which  he  gave  to  an  old  woman, 
with  instructions  that  if  he  did  not  return  she  was  to 
hand  it  to  his  lawfully  appointed  successor.  Men- 
surius then  went  to  Rome,  succeeded  in  convincing 
Maxentius  of  his  innocence,  but  died  on  the  way 
home,  in  31 1  A.D.  As  soon  as  the  news  of  his  death 
reached  Carthage,  the  round  of  intrigue  began.  Ac- 
cording to  Optatus,  two  deacons  named  Botrus  and 
Celestius,  each  hoping  to  secure  his  own  elevation, 
hurried  on  the  election,  in  which  the  Numidian 
bishops  were  not  invited  to  take  part.  The  passage 
is  obscure,  for  Optatus  goes  on  to  say  that  the  choice 
fell  upon  Caecilianus,  who  was  elected  "  by  the  suf- 
frages of  the  whole  people,"  and  was  consecrated  in 
due  form  by  Felix,  Bishop  of  Aptunga.  When 
Caecilianus  called  upon  the  elders  to  restore  the 
Church  ornaments,  they  quitted  the  Church — the 
suggestion  of  the  Catholic  historian  is  that  they  had 
hoped  to  steal  them — and  attached  themselves  to 
the  faction  of  Lucilla,  together  with  Botrus  and 
Celestius,  whom  St.  Augustine  roundly  denounces 
as  "impious  and  sacrilegious  thieves."  The  schism 
was  now  complete.    It  had  its  origin,  says  Optatus,* 

*  Schisma  igitur  illo  tempore  confuses  mulieris  iracundia  peperit, 
ambitus  nutrivit,  avaritia  roboravit. 


Constantine  and  the  Donatists     165 

in  the  fury  of  a  headstrong  woman  ;  it  was  nurtured 
by  intrigue  and  drew  its  strength  from  jealous  greed. 
Caecihanus'  position  was  speedily  challenged.  The 
malcontents  appealed  to  the  Numidian  bishops, 
urging  them  to  declare  in  synod  whether  the  elec- 
tion was  valid.  Accordingly,  the  Numidian  Primate, 
Secundus  of  Tigisis,  came  with  seventy  other  bishops 
to  the  capital,  where  they  were  received  with  open 
arms  by  the  opposition  party.  Caecilianus  seated 
himself  on  his  throne  in  the  cathedral  and  waited  for 
the  bishops  to  appear.  When  they  did  not  come  he 
sent  a  message  saying,  "  If  any  one  has  any  accusa- 
tion to  bring  against  me,  let  him  come  to  make  good 
the  charge."  But  the  Numidian  bishops  preferred 
to  meet  elsewhere  within  closed  doors  and  finally 
declared  the  election  of  Caecilianus  invalid  on  the 
ground  that  he  had  been  consecrated  by  a  traditor. 
To  this  Caecilianus  repHed  that,  if  they  thought  Fe- 
hx  of  Aptunga  had  been  a  traditor,  they  had  better 
consecrate  him  themselves,  as  though  he  were  still  a 
simple  deacon — a  sarcasm  which  roused  the  violent 
Purpurius  to  exclaim :  "  Let  him  come  here  to  re- 
ceive the  laying  on  of  hands,  and  we  will  strike  off 
his  head  by  way  of  penance."  They  then  elected 
Majorinus,  who  had  been  one  of  Caecilianus'  readers 
and  was  now  a  member  of  Lucilla's  household. 
There  were  thus  two  rival  bishops  of  Carthage. 
Those  who  supported  Caecihanus  called  themselves 
the  Catholic  party ;  their  rivals,  until  the  death  of 
Majorinus  in  3 15,  were  known  as  the  party  of  Major- 
inus, though  their  moving  spirit  seems  to  have  been, 
first,  Donatus,  the  Bishop  of  Casae  Nigrae,  and,  after- 


1 66  Constantine 

wards,  Donatus,  surnamed   Magnus,  who  gave  his 
name  to  the  schism. 

Though  Africa  was  thus  split  into  two  camps,  there 
is  no  evidence  that  Majorinus  was  recognised  by  any 
of  the  churches  of  Europe,  Egypt,  or  Asia.  These 
all  looked  to  Caecilianus  as  the  rightful  bishop,  and 
so,  when  Constantine,  fresh  from  his  victory  over 
Maxentius,  wrote  to  the  African  churches  in  312  to 
announce  his  intention  of  making  a  handsome  pre- 
sent of  money  to  their  clergy,  it  was  to  Caecilianus 
that  the  letter  was  addressed,  and  the  schismatics 
were  rebuked  in  the  sharpest  terms.  The  letter  ran 
as  follows : 

"Constantine  Augustus  to  C^cilianus,  Bishop   of 
Carthage. 

"  Inasmuch  as  it  has  pleased  us  to  contribute  something 
towards  the  necessary  expenses  of  certain  ministers  of 
the  lawful  and  most  holy  Catholic  religion  throughout 
all  the  provinces  of  Africa,  Numidia,  and  both  Maure- 
tanias,  I  have  sent  letters  to  Ursus,  the  most  noble  gov- 
ernor of  Africa,  and  have  instructed  him  to  see  that 
three  thousand  purses  are  paid  over  to  your  Reverence. 
When,  therefore,  you  have  received  the  above  mentioned 
sum,  you  will  take  care  that  the  money  is  divided  among 
the  clergy  already  spoken  of  according  to  the  instruc- 
tions sent  to  you  bv  Hosius. 

"  If  you  considerTTrtS^mount  insufficient  for  the  pur- 
pose of  testifying  my  regard  for  all  of  you  in  Africa,  you 
are  to  ask  without  delay  Heraclidas,  the  procurator  of 
the  imperial  domains,  for  whatever  you  may  think  neces- 
sary.    For  I  have  personally  instructed  him  that  what- 


Constantine  and  the  Donatists     167 

ever  sum  your  Reverence  asks  for  is  to  be  paid  without 
hesitation, 

"  And  since  I  have  heard  that  certain  persons  of  ill- 
balanced  mind  {quosdam  non  satis  composites  mentis) 
are  acting  in  such  a  manner  as  to  corrupt  the  people  of 
the  most  holy  and  Catholic  Church  with  wicked  and 
adulterous  falsehoods  {improba  et  adulterina  falsiiaie), 
I  would  have  you  know  that  I  have  given  verbal  instruc- 
tions to  Anulinus,  the  proconsul,  and  to  Patricius,  the 
vicar  of  the  prsefects,  to  include  among  their  other  duties 
a  sharp  lookout  in  this  matter,  and,  if  this  movement  con- 
tinues, not  to  neglect  or  ignore  it. 

"  Consequently,  if  you  find  persons  of  this  character 
persevering  in  their  mad  folly  {in  hac  amentia  perse- 
verare)  you  will  at  once  approach  the  above  mentioned 
judges  and  lay  the  matter  before  them,  that  they  may 
punish  the  culprits  {in  eos  animadvertant)  in  accordance 
with  ray  personal  instructions. 

"  May  the  divinity  of  the  Supreme  God  {Divinitas 
summi  Dei)  preserve  you  for  many  years."  ~"~         ' 

In  conjunction  with  this  must  be  taken  the  letter 
addressed  by  Constantine  to  Anulinus,  the  proconsul 
of  Africa : 

"  Greetings  to  our  best  beloved  Anulinus  !  Inasmuch 
as  it  is  abundantly  proven  that  the  neglect  of  the  religion 
which  preserves  the  greatest  reverence  for  divine  majesty 
has  reduced  the  State  to  the  direst  peril,  while  its  care- 
ful and  due  observance  has  brought  the  most  splendid 
prosperity  to  the  Roman  name  and  unspeakable  felicity 
to  all  things  mortal,  thanks  to  divine  goodness,  we  have 
resolved,  best  beloved  Anulinus,  that  those,  who  with 
due  righteousness  of  life  and  continual  observance  of 


{ 


1 68  Constantine 

the  law,  perform  their  ministry  in  this  divine  reHgion 
shall  reap  the  reward  of  their  labours. 

"Wherefore,  it  is  our  wish  that  all  who,  in  the  province 
under  your  care  and  in  the  Catholic  Church  over  which 
Caecilianus  presides,  minister  to  this  most  holy  religion — 
those,  viz.,  whom  people  are  wont  to  call  the  clergy — shall 
be  absolved*  from  all  public  duties  of  any  kind,  lest, 
by  some  slip  or  grave  mischance,  they  may  be  distracted 
from  the  duties  they  owe  to  the  Supreme  Divinity,  and 
that  they  may  do  the  better  service  to  their  own  ritual 
without  any  disturbing  influences. 

"  Inasmuch  as  these  people  display  the  deepest  rever- 
ence for  the  Divine  Will,  it  seems  to  me  that  they  ought 
to  receive  the  greatest  reward  the  State  can  bestow." 

These  are  two  remarkable  letters.  They  clearly 
prove  that  the  schism  in  the  African  Church  was 
making  a  stir  outside  Africa,  and  that  the  Emperor 
had  been  instructed  in  the  main  points  at  issue.  The 
new  convert  had  cast  his  all-powerful  influence  upon 
the  Catholic  side — an  Emperor  would  naturally  be 
biassed  against  schism — and  he  was  prepared  to 
utilise  the  civil  power  in  order  to  compel  the  return  of 
the  schismatics  to  obedience.  So  little  observant 
was  he  of  his  own  edict  of  toleration  that  he  was 
prepared  to  use  force  to  secure  uniformity  within 
the  Church!  Constantine,  indeed,  reveals  himself 
not  merely  as  a  Christian,  but  as  a  Catholic  Christ- 
ian ;  his  bounty  is  reserved  for  the  Catholic  clergy, 
and  the  immunity  from  public  duties  involving 
heavy  expense  is  reserved  similarly  for  them  alone. 

*  Ab  omnibtis  ot?inino  publicis  fiinctionibus  immunes  volumus  con- 

servari. 


Constantine  and  the  Donatists     169 

Nevertheless,  the  party  of  Majorinus  petitioned  the 
Emperor  to  appoint  a  commission  of  GalHcan  bish- 
ops to  enquire  into  and  report  upon  their  quarrel 
with  the  Bishop  of  Carthage. 

"  We  appeal  to  you,  Constantine,  best  of  Emperors, 
since  you  come  of  a  just  stock,  for  your  father  was  alone 
among  his  colleagues  in  not  putting  the  persecution  into 
force,  and  Gaul  was  thus  spared  that  frightful  crime. 
Strife  has  arisen  between  us  and  other  African  bishops, 
and  we  pray  that  your  piety  may  lead  you  to  grant  us 
judges  from  Gaul." 

(Signed  by  Lucianus,  Dignus,  Nasutius,  Capito, 

Fidentius,  and  other  bishops  of  the  party  of 

Majorinus.) 

This  petition  was  forwarded  by  Anulinus,  the  pro- 
consul, whose  covering  letter,  dated  April,  .^i,^, 
describes  the  opponents  of  Caecilianus  as  being 
resolute  in  refusing  obedience.  The  Emperor,  who 
was  in  Gaul  when  the  petition  reached  him,  granted 
kthe  desired  commission  and  instructed  the  bishops 
of  Cologne,  Autun,  and  Aries  to  repair  to  Rome. 
.Caecilianus  was  instructed  to  attend  with  the  bishops 
belonging  to  his  party;  ten  of  the  rival  bishops 
attached  to  Majorinus  were  to  appear  in  the  character 
of  accusers,  and  for  judges  there  were  to  be  Miltiades, 
Bishop  of  Rome,  the  three  Galilean  bishops,  and  fif- 
teen other  Italian  bishops  selected  by  Miltiades  from 
all  parts  of  the  peninsula.  They  met  in  October  in 
the  palace  of  the  Empress  Fausta,  on  the  Lateran. 
Constantine  had  already  written  a  letter  to  Mil- 
tiades, in  which  he  deplored  the  existence  of  such 


170  Constantine 

serious  schism  in  the  populous  African  provinces, 
which,  he  said,  had  spontaneously  surrendered  to 
him,  under  the  influence  of  divine  Providence,  as  a 
reward  for  his  devotion  to  religion.  He,  therefore, 
looked  to  the  bishops  to  find  a  reasonable  solution. 

At  the  first  sitting  the  credentials  of  the  accusers 
of  Cdecilianus  were  examined,  and  some  were  dis- 
qualified on  the  score  of  bad  character.  Then,  when 
the  witnesses  were  called,  those  who  had  been  brought 
to  Rome  by  Majorinus  and  Donatus  avowed  that 
they  had  nothing  to  say  against  Caecilianus.  The 
case  of  the  petitioners  practically  collapsed,  for  the 
judges  refused  to  listen  to  unsubstantiated  gossip 
and  scandal,  and  Donatus  in  the  end  declined  to 
attend  the  enquiry,  fearing  lest  he  should  be  con- 
demned on  his  own  admissions.  Later  on,  a  second 
list  of  charges  was  handed  in,  but  was  not  supported 
by  a  single  witness,  and  then  finally  the  commission 
passed  on  to  enquire  into  the  proceedings  of  the 
Council  of  the  seventy  bishops  who  had  declared  the 
election  of  Caecilianus  invalid.  They  had  no  difficulty 
in  reaching  a  general  decision. 

The  accusations  against  Caecilianus  had  clearly 
broken  down  and  the  verdict  of  Miltiades  began  in 
the  following  terms:  "Inasmuch  as  it  is  shewn  that 
Csecilianus  is  not  accused  by  those  who  came  with 
Donatus,  as  they  had  promised  to  do,  and  Donatus 
has  in  no  particular  established  his  charges  against 
him,  I  find  that  Caecilianus  should  be  maintained  in 
the  communion  of  his  church  with  all  his  privileges 
.intact."  St.  Augustine  warmly  eulogises  the  admir- 
able moderation  displayed  by  Miltiades,  who,  in  the 


Constantine  and  the  Donatists     171 

hope  of  restoring  unity,  offered  to  send  letters  of 
communion  to  all  who  had  been  consecrated  by 
Majorinus,  proposing  that  where  there  were  two  rival 
bishops,  the  senior  in  time  of  consecration  should  be 
confirmed  in  the  appointment,  while  another  see 
should  be  found  for  the  other.  But  the  Donatists 
would  listen  to  no  compromise.  They  appealed  again 
to  the  Emperor,  who,  with  a  very  pardonable  out- 
burst of  wrath,  denounced  the  rabid  and  implacable 
hatreds  of  these  turbulent  Africans. 

Knowing  that  the  quarrel  would  be  resumed  in 
full  blast  if  Caecilianus  and  Donatus  returned  to 
Africa,  Constantine  detained  them  both  in  Italy. 
Two  Italian  bishops,  Eunomius  and  Olympius,  were 
meanwhile  sent  to  Carthage  to  act  as  peacemakers 
and  explain  to  the  African  congregations  which  was 
the  true  Catholic  Church.  It  was  none  other,  they 
said,  than  the  Church  which  was  diffused  throughout 
the  whole  world,  and  they  insisted  that  the  judg- 
ment of  the  nineteen  bishops  was  one  from  which 
there  could  be  no  appeal.  The  Donatists,  however, 
retorted  that  if  the  verdict  of  nineteen  bishops  was 
sacred,  a  verdict  of  seventy  must  be  even  more  so. 
They  resisted  the  overtures  of  their  visitors,  and 
thus,  when  Donatus  and  Caecilianus  in  turn  reap- 
peared on  the  scene,  the  fires  of  partisanship  did  not 
lack  for  fuel.  It  was  no  longer  possible  for  the 
Donatists  to  press  for  a  rehearing  on  the  ground  of 
the  personal  character  of  Csecilianus.  They  had  had 
their  chance  in  Rome  to  impugn  the  Primate's 
character,  and  had  failed.  They  now  shifted  their 
ground  and  based  their  claim  upon  the  fact  that 


172  Constantine 

Felix  of  Aptunga,  who  had  consecrated  Caecilianus, 
was  a  traditor,  and  the  consecration  was,  therefore, 
invahd. 

But  was  Felix  a  traditor?  This  was  a  plain, 
straightforward  question,  involving  no  disputed 
point  of  doctrine.  Constantine,  therefore,  wrote  to 
^lianus,  Anulinus's  successor  as  proconsul  of  Africa, 
instructing  him  to  hold  a  public  enquiry  into  the  life 
and  character  of  Felix  of  Aptunga.  Part  of  the 
official  report  has  come  down  to  us.  Among  the 
witnesses  were  those  who  had  been  the  chief 
magistrates  of  Aptunga  at  the  time  of  the  persecu- 
tion. These  must  all  have  been  acutely  conscious  of 
the  curiously  anomalous  position  in  which  they 
stood.  If  they  found  that  Felix  had  delivered  up 
the  Holy  Books  and  utensils  of  the  church,  their 
verdict  would  acquit  him  of  having  broken  the  law 
of  Diocletian,  but  would  convict  him  of  being  a 
traditor,  and  would,  therefore,  be  most  unwelcome 
to  the  reigning  sovereign.  If  they  decided  that 
Felix  was  not  a  traditor,  they  would  convict  him  of 
having  broken  the  law  of  Diocletian  and  convict 
themselves  of  having  been  lax  administrators.  The 
favour  of  a  living  Prince,  however,  outweighed  con- 
sideration for  the  edicts  of  the  dead,  and  the  finding 
of  the  court  was  that  "  no  volumes  of  Holy  Scripture 
had  been  discovered  at  Aptunga,  or  had  been  defiled, 
or  burnt."  It  went  on  to  say  that  Felix  was  not 
present  in  the  city  at  the  time  and  that  he  had  not 
temporised  with  his  conscience  {neque  conscientiam 
accommodaverit).  He  had  been,  in  short,  a  godly 
bishop    {religiosum    episcopuni).     The    character   of 


Constantine  and  the  Donatists     173 

Felix  was,  therefore,  entirely  rehabilitated  and  the 
validity  of  the  consecration  of  Csecilianus  was 
unimpaired. 

Then  follows  the  Council  of  Aries  in  314.  With  a 
forbearance  rarely  displayed  by  a  Roman  emperor  to 
inveterate  and  unreasoning  opposition,  Constantine 
yielded  to  the  clamour  of  the  Donatists  for  a  new  coun- 
cil on  a  broader  and  more  authoritative  scale  than  the 
commission  of  Italian  and  Gallic  bishops.  But  his  dis- 
appointment and  disgust  are  plainly  to  be  seen  in 
his  letter  to  the  proconsul  of  Africa.  Constantine 
began  by  saying  that  he  had  fully  expected  that  the 
decision  of  a  commission  of  bishops  "  of  the  very 
highest  probity  and  competence  "  would  have  com- 
manded universal  respect.  He  found,  however,  that 
the  enemies  of  Caecilianus  were  as  dogged  and 
obstinate  as  ever,  for  they  declared  that  the  bishops 
had  simply  shut  themselves  up  in  a  room  and  judged 
the  case  according  to  their  personal  predilections. 
They  clamoured  for  another  council :  he  would  grant 
them  one  which  was  to  meet  at  Aries,  ^lianus,  there- 
fore, was  to  see  that  the  public  posting  service 
throughout  Africa  and  Mauretania  was  placed  at  the 
disposal  of  Csecihanus  and  his  party  and  of  Donatus 
and  his  party,  that  they  might  travel  with  despatch 
and  cross  into  Spain  by  the  quickest  passage.  Then 
the  letter  continued  : 

"  You  will  provide  each  separate  Bishop  with  imperial 
letters  entitling  him  to  necessaries  en  route  [tractorias 
litteras)  that  he  may  arrive  at  Aries  by  the  first  of 
August,  and  you  will  also  give  all  the  bishops  to  under- 
stand that,  before  they  leave  their  dioceses,  they  must 


1 74  Constantine 

make  arrangements  whereby,  during  their  absence, 
reasonable  discipline  may  be  preserved  and  no  chance 
revolt  against  authority  or  private  altercations  arise,  for 
these  bring  the  Church  into  great  disgrace. 

"  On  the  other  matters  at  issue,  I  wish  the  enquiry  to 
be  full  and  complete,  and  an  end  to  be  reached,*  as  I 
hope  it  may  be,  when  all  those  who  are  known  to  be  at 
variance  meet  together  in  person.  The  quarrel  may 
thus  come  to  its  natural  and  timely  conclusion. 

**  For  as  I  am  well  assured  that  you  are  a  worshipper 
of  the  supreme  God,  I  confess  to  your  Excellency  that  I 
consider  it  by  no  means  lawful  for  me  to  ignore  disputes 
and  quarrels  of  such  a  nature  as  may  excite  the  supreme 
Divinity  to  wrath,  not  only  against  the  human  race  but 
against  myself  personally,  into  whose  charge  the  Divinity 
by  its  Divine  will  has  committed  the  governance  of  all 
that  is  on  earth.  In  its  just  indignation,  it  might  decree 
'some  ill  against  me. 

"  And  then  only  can  I  feel  really  and  absolutely 
I  secure,  and  hope  for  an  unfailing  supply  of  all  the 
^richest  blessings  that  flow  from  the  instant  goodness  of 
Almighty  God,  when  I  shall  see  all  mankind  reverencing 
most  Holy  God  in  brotherly  singleness  of  worship  and  in 
the  lawful  rites  of  our  Catholic  religion. "f 

Not  only  did  Constantine  write  in  this  evidently 
sincere  strain  to  the  proconsul  of  Africa ;  he  also 
sent  personal  letters  to  the  bishops  whose  pres- 
ence he  desired.  Eusebius  has  preserved  the 
text    of    one    of    these,  which   was    addressed   to 


*  De  ccetero  plena  cognitione  suscepta  finis  adhibeaiur. 

f  Tunc  enim  revera  et plenissime  securus  potero  esse,  cum  universos 
sensero  debito  cultu  catholicce  religionis  sanctisshmim  Deum  concordi 
observantice  fraternitate  venerari. 


Constantine  and  the  Donatists     175 

Chrestus,  Bishop  of  Syracuse,  in  which  the  Emperor 
instructs  him  not  to  fail  to  reach  Aries  by  August 
1st,  and  bids  him  secure  a  public  vehicle  from 
Latronianus,  the  Governor  of  Sicily,  and  bring  with 
him  two  presbyters  of  the  second  rank  and  three 
personal  servants.  In  obedience  to  Constantine's 
wishes  the  bishops  assembled  at  Aries  by  the 
appointed  day.  It  is  not  known  how  many  were 
present.  On  the  fullest  list  of  those  who  signed  the 
canons  there  agreed  to  are  found  the  names  of 
thirty-three  bishops,  thirteen  presbyters,  twenty-three 
deacons,  two  readers,  seven  exorcists,  and  four 
representatives  of  the  Bishop  of  Rome.  But  from 
the  extreme  importance  attached  to  the  council  in 
later  times  it  is  certain  that  many  more  attended, 
and  the  numbers  have  been  variously  estimated  at 
^  from  two  to  six  hundred.  Not  a  single  Eastern 
\bishop  was  present.  It  was  a  council  of  the  West, 
/representing  the  various  provinces  of  Africa  and 
Gaul,  Spain,  Britain,  Italy,  Sicily,  and  Sardinia. 
From  Britain  came  Eborius  of  York,  Restitutus  of 
London,  and  Adelfius,  the  Bishop  of  a  diocese  which 
has  been  variously  interpreted  as  that  of  Colchester, 
Lincoln,  and  Caerleon  on  Usk,  with  a  presbyter 
named  Sacerdos  and  a  deacon  called  Arminius.  The 
Bishop  of  Rome,  Sylvester,  sent  two  presbyters  and 
two  deacons. 

The  Council  investigated  with  great  minuteness 
the  points  raised  by  the  Donatists,  but  it  is  clear 
from  the  report  sent  to  Sylvester  that  the  Donatists 
were  no  better  supplied  with  evidence  than  they 
had  been  at  Rome.     They  simply  repeated  the  old, 


176  Constantine 

unsubstantiated  charge  against  Caecilianus  that,  as 
deacon,  he  had  forcibly  prevented  the  members  of 
the  Church  of  Carthage  from  succouring  their  brethren 
in  prison  during  the  persecution  of  Diocletian,  and 
the  disproved  accusation  against  the  bishop  who  con- 
secrated him  that  he  had  been  a  traditor.  In  a 
word,  they  had  absolutely  no  case  and  the  Council 
of  Aries  endorsed  the  verdict  of  the  Council  of 
Rome.  The  synodal  letter  to  Sylvester  began  as 
follows  : 

"  We,  assembled  in  the  city  of  Aries  at  the  bidding  of 
our  most  pious  Emperor,  in  the  common  bonds  of  charity 
and  unity,  and  knitted  together  by  the  ties  of  the  mother 
Catholic  Church,  salute  you,  most  holy  Pope,  with  all  due 
reverence.  We  have  endured  to  listen  to  the  accusations 
of  desperate  men,  who  have  wrought  grave  injury  to  our 
law  and  tradition,  men  whom  the  present  authority  of 
our  God  and  the  rule  of  truth  have  so  utterly  disowned 
that  there  was  no  reason  in  their  speeches,  no  bounds  to 
the  charges  they  brought,  and  no  evidence  or  proof. 
And  so,  in  the  judgment  of  God  and  the  Mother  Church, 
which  has  known  and  attests  them,  they  stand  either 
condemned  or  rejected.  Would  that  you,  dearest  brother, 
had  found  it  possible  to  take  part  in  such  a  gathering. 
We  verily  beheve  that  in  that  case  a  more  severe  sentence 
would  have  been  passed  upon  them,  while  if  your  judg- 
ment had  coincided  with  ours,  the  joy  of  our  assembly 
would  have  been  intensified.  But  since  you  found  it 
impossible  to  leave  the  chosen  place  where  the  Apostles 
make  their  daily  home,  and  where  their  blood  testifies 
ceaselessly  to  the  glory  of  God,  we  thought,  dearest  bro- 
ther, that  we  ought  not  simply  to  take  in  hand  the  subject 
for  the  discussion  of  which  we  had  been  called  together, 


Constantine  and  the  Donatists     177 

but  also  to  consider  other  matters  on  our  own  account, 
and,  as  we  have  come  from  diverse  provinces,  diverse  are 
the  topics  on  which  it  seemed  good  to  us  to  take 
counsel." 

The  letter  then  enumerates  the  canons  to  which 
the  signatories  had  agreed  and  transmits  them  with 
the  remark  that  as  the  Bishop  of  Rome's  dioceses 
were  wider  than  those  of  any  other  bishop,  he  was 
the  most  suitable  person  to  press  the  acceptance  of 
these  canons  upon  the  Church. 

It  does  not  fall  within  the  province  of  this  book  to 
discuss  these  twenty-two  canons ;  it  will  suffice  to 
indicate  the  more  important  in  the  briefest  outline. 
The  first  suggested  that  Easter  should  be  celebrated 
on  the  same  day  throughout  the  whole  world ; 
the  second  insisted  on  the  clergy  residing  in  the 
places  to  which  they  were  ordained  ;  the  third 
threatened  with  excommunication  deserters  from  the 
army  in  times  of  peace  {qui  anna  projiciunt  in  pace). 
Of  special  importance  in  connection  with  the  ques- 
tions raised  by  the  Donatists  were  the  canons  which 
prohibited  the  rebaptism  of  heretics  if  they  had 
been  baptised  in  the  name  of  the  Holy  Trinity ; 
which  recognised  the  validity  of  baptism  conferred 
by  heretics,  if  conferred  in  the  proper  form ;  which 
ordered  that  a  new  bishop  should  be  consecrated  by 
seven,  or  at  least  three,  bishops  and  never  by  a  single 
one ;  which  removed  from  the  ministry  all  those 
who  were  clearly  proved  to  have  been  traditores  or  to 
have  denounced  their  brother  clergy,  though,  if  these 
had  ordained  any  others  to  the  ministry,  the  validity 
of  the  ordination  was  not  to  be  challenged.    Worthy 


178  Constantine 

also  of  note  is  the  canon  removing  from  the  com- 
munion of  the  faithful  all  those  engaged  in  any 
calling  connected  with  the  arena  or  the  stage,  such 
as  charioteers,  jockeys,  actors,  pantomimists,  and  the 
like,  as  long  as  they  continue  in  professions  which,  in 
the  eyes  of  the  Church,  tend  to  the  subversion  of 
public  morals;  the  canon  which  excommunicated 
those  of  the  clergy  who  practised  usury,  and  the 
canon  exhorting  those  whose  wives  had  been  unfaith- 
ful not  to  marry  again,  as  they  were  legally  entitled 
to  do,  during  the  lifetime  of  their  guilty  partners. 

If  the  Council  of  Aries  was  exceptionally  fruitful 
in  respect  of  new  rules  passed  for  the  improvement 
of  ecclesiastical  discipline,  it  proved  an  entire  failure 
in  its  primary  object,  that  of  putting  an  end  to  the 
Donatist  schism.  The  African  malcontents  still  re- 
fused to  acknowledge  Csecilianus  and  had  the  ef- 
frontery to  appeal  to  Constantine  for  yet  another 
investigation.  As  the  bishops  of  the  West  were 
obstinately  prejudiced  against  them,  they  desired 
the  Emperor  to  be  gracious  enough  to  take  charge 
of  the  enquiry  himself.  Constantine  did  not  con- 
ceal his  anger  in  the  important  letter  which  he  ad- 
dressed to  the  bishops  at  Aries,  thanking  them  for 
their  labours  and  giving  them  leave  to  return  to 
their  homes.     He  wrote  : 

"  Certainly  I  cannot  describe  or  enumerate  the  blessings 
which  God  in  His  heavenly  bounty  has  bestowed  upon 
me.  His  servant.  I  rejoice  exceedingly,  therefore,  that 
after  this  most  just  enquiry  you  have  recalled  to  better 
hope  and  future  those  whom  the  malignity  of  the  Devil 


Constantine  and  the  Donatists     179 

geemed  to  have  seduced  away  by  his  miserable  persua- 
sion from  the  clearest  light  of  the  Catholic  law.  O  truly 
conquering  Providence  of  Christ,  our  Saviour,  solicitous 
even  for  these  who  have  deserted  and  turned  their 
weapons  against  the  truth,  and  joined  themselves  to  the 
heathen.  Yet  even  now,  if  they  will  truly  believe  and 
obey  His  most  holy  law,  they  will  be  able  to  see  what 
forethought  has  been  taken  in  their  behalf  by  the  will  of 
God. 

"  And  I  hoped,  most  holy  brethren,  to  find  such  a  dis- 
position even  in  the  stubbornest  breasts.  For  not  with- 
out just  cause  will  the  clemency  of  Christ  depart  from 
those,  in  whom  it  shines  with  a  light  so  clear  that  we 
may  perceive  they  are  regarded  with  loathing  by  the 
Divine  Providence.  Such  men  must  be  bereft  of  reason, 
since  with  incredible  arrogance  they  persuade  them- 
selves of  the  truth  of  things,  of  which  it  is  neither  meet 
to  speak  nor  hear  others  speak,  abandoning  the  righteous 
decisions  which  have  been  laid  down.  So  persistent  and 
ineradicable  is  their  malignity.  How  often  already  have 
they  shamelessly  approached  me,  only  to  be  crushed 
with  the  fitting  response  !  Now  they  clamour  for  a 
judgment  from  me,  who  myself  await  the  judgment  of 
Christ.  For  I  say  that,  as  far  as  the  truth  is  concerned, 
a  judgment  delivered  by  priests  ought  to  be  considered 
as  valid  as  though  Christ  Himself  were  present  and  de- 
livering judgment.*  For  priests  can  form  no  thought  or 
judgment,  unless  what  they  are  taught  to  utter  by  the  ad- 
monitory voice  of  Christ. 

"  What,  then,  can  these  malignant  creatures  be  think- 
ing of,  creatures  of  the  Devil,   as  I  have  truly  said  ? 

*Meum  judicium  postulant  qui  judicitim  Christi  expecto.  Dico 
enim,  ut  se  Veritas  habet,  sacer datum  judicitim  ita  debet  haberi  ac 
si  ipse  Dominus  residens  judicet. 


1 80  Constantine 

They  seek  the  things  of  this  world,  abandoning  the 
things  of  Heaven.  What  sheer,  rabid  madness  possesses 
them,  that  they  have  entered  an  appeal,  as  is  wont  to  be 
done  in  mundane  lawsuits?  .  .  .  What  do  these 
detractors  of  the  law  think  of  Christ  their  Saviour,  if 
they  refuse  to  acknowledge  the  judgment  of  Heaven 
and  demand  judgment  from  me  ?  They  are  proven 
traitors  ;  they  have  themselves  convicted  themselves  of 
their  crimes,  without  need  of  closer  enquiry  into  them. 
.  .  .  Do  you,  however,  dearest  brothers,  return  to 
your  own  homes,  and  be  ye  mindful  of  me  that  our 
Saviour  may  ever  have  mercy  upon  me." 

It  is  not  a  little  difficult  to  understand  why  an 
Emperor  who  wrote  such  a  letter  as  the  above  should 
have  again  acceded  to  the  Donatist  demand  for 
a  rehearing.  Possibly  the  Donatists  had  powerful 
friends  at  court  of  whom  we  know  nothing,  some 
member,  it  may  be,  of  the  Imperial  Family,  or  per- 
haps the  case  against  them  was  not  so  one-sided  as 
the  Catholic  authorities  agree  in  representing.  At 
any  rate,  Constantine  summoned  Caecilianus  to  ap- 
pear before  him  in  Rome.  Here  is  the  letter  which 
he  wrote  to  the  Donatist  bishops  to  apprise  them  of 
his  determination : 

"  A  few  days  ago  I  had  decided  to  accede  to  your  re- 
quest and  permit  you  to  return  to  Africa,  that  the  case 
which  you  think  you  have  established  against  Cacilianus 
might  be  fully  investigated  and  brought  to  a  proper  con- 
clusion. But,  after  long  and  careful  consideration,  I 
have  deemed  the  following  arrangement  best.  Know- 
ing, as  1  do,  that  certain  of  you  are  of  a  decidedly  tur- 
bulent nature  and  obstinately  reject  a  right  verdict  and 


Constantine  and  the  Donatists     i8i 

the  reasoning  of  absolute  truth,  it   might  conceivably 
happen,  if  the  case  were  heard  in  Africa,  that  the  con- 
clusion reached  would  not  be  a  fitting  one,  or  in  accord- 
ance with  the  dictates  of  truth.     In  that  event,  owing  to 
^our  exceeding  obstinacy,  something  might  occur  which 
Avould  greatly  displease  the  Heavenly  Divinity  and  do 
1  serious  injury  to  my  reputation,  which  I  desire  ever  to 
/maintain  unimpaired.      I  have  decided  therefore,  as  I 
have  said,  that  it  is  better  for  Cfficilianus  to  come  here 
and  I  think  he  will  speedily  arrive. 

"  But  I  pledge  you  my  word  that  if,  in  his  presence, 
you  shall  succeed  in  proving  a  single  one  of  the  crimes 
and  misdeeds  which  you  lay  to  his  charge,  it  shall  have 
as  much  weight  with  me  as  if  you  had  proved  every  ac- 
cusation you  bring  forward.  May  God  Almighty  keep 
you  safe  for  ever." 

At  the  same  time  Constantine  wrote  to  Probia- 
nus,  the  successor  of  iElianus  in  the  governorship  of 
Africa,  instructing  him  to  send  under  guard  to  Italy 
certain  witnesses  who  had  been  imprisoned  for  forging 
documents  purporting  to  shew  that  Felix  of  Aptunga 
was  a  traditor.  Caecilianus  failed  to  appear  at  the 
appointed  time,  for  some  reason  which  is  unknown 
to  St.  Augustine,  who  gives  a  brief  account  of  the 
sequence  of  events.*  The  Donatists  demanded  that 
judgment  should  be  given  against  the  absent  bishop 
by  default,  but  Constantine  refused  and  ordered  them 
to  follow  him  to  Milan,  where  affairs  of  state  necessi- 
tated his  presence.  If  Augustine  is  to  be  trusted, 
the  Emperor  secured  the  attendance  of  the  Do- 
natists by  clapping  them  under  guard  {ab  officialibus 

*  Epist.,  43. 


1 82  Constantine 

custoditos).  This  time  Caecilianus  did  not  fail  his  pa- 
tron. Constantine,  who  was  strongly  averse  from  tak- 
ing upon  himself  to  revise,  as  it  were,  the  judgments 
passed  by  so  many  bishops  in  council,  deprecated 
their  possible  resentment  by  assuring  them  that  his 
sole  desire  was  to  close  the  mouths  of  the  Donatists. 
After  hearing  the  case  all  over  again,  Constantine 
pronounced  judgment  on  Nov.  i6,  316.  St.  Au- 
gustine says  that  the  Emperor's  letters  prove  his 
diligence,  caution,  and  forethought.  The  praise  may 
be  deserved,  but  it  is  evident  that  he  had  made  up 
his  mind  beforehand.  He  re-afifirmed  the  absolute 
innocence  of  Caecilianus  and  the  shamelessness  of  his 
accusers.  In  an  interesting  fragment  of  a  letter  writ- 
ten by  the  Emperor  to  Eumalius,  one  of  his  vicars, 
occurs  this  sentence :  "  I  saw  in  Caecihanus  a  man  of 
spotless  innocence,  one  who  observed  the  proper  du- 
ties of  religion  and  served  it  as  he  ought,  nor  did  it 
appear  that  guilt  could  be  found  in  him,  as  had  been 
charged  against  him  in  his  absence  by  the  malice  of 
his  enemies."  The  publication  of  the  Emperor's 
verdict  was  followed  by  an  edict  prescribing  penal- 
ties against  the  schismatics.  St.  Augustine  speaks  of 
a  "  most  severe  law  against  the  party  of  Donatus,"* 
and,  from  other  scattered  references,  we  learn  that 
their  churches  were  confiscated  and  that  they  were 
fined  for  non-obedience.  The  author  of  the  Edict 
of  Milan,  who  had  promised  absolute  freedom  of 
conscience  to  all,  was  so  soon  obliged  to  invoke  the 
arm  of  the  temporal  authority  for  the  correction  of 
religious  disunion  ! 

*  Epist.,  105. 


Constantine  and  the  Donatists     183 

But  the  Donatists,  whose  only  raison  d'etre  was 
their  passionate  insistence  upon  the  obHgation  of  the 
Christian  to  make  no  compromise  with  conscience, 
however  sharp  the  edge  of  the  persecutor's  sword, 
were  obviously  not  the  kind  of  people  to  be  over- 
awed by  so  mild  a  punishment  as  confiscation  of 
property.  The  Emperor's  edicts  were  fruitless, 
and  in  320,  only  four  years  later,  we  find  Constan- 
tine trying  a  change  of  policy  and  recommending 
the  African  bishops  to  see  once  more  what  toleration 
would  do.  Active  repression  only  made  martyrs,  and 
martyrdom  was  the  goal  of  the  fanatical  Donatist's 
ambition.  Hence  the  terms  in  which  the  Emperor 
addresses  the  Catholic  Church  of  Africa.  After 
enumerating  the  repeated  efforts  he  has  made  in 
order  to  restore  unity,  and  dwelling  upon  the  delib- 
erate and  abandoned  wickedness  of  those  who  have 
rendered  his  intervention  nugatory,  he  continues: 

"We  must  hope,  therefore,  that  Almighty  God  may 
shew  pity  and  gentleness  to  his  people,  as  this  schism  is 
the  work  of  a  few.  For  it  is  to  God  that  we  should  look 
for  a  remedy,  since  all  good  vows  and  deeds  are  requited. 
But  until  the  healing  comes  from  above,  it  behoves  us  to 
moderate  our  councils,  to  practise  patience,  and  to  bear 
with  the  virtue  of  calmness  any  assault  or  attack  which 
the  depravity  of  these  people  prompts  them   to  deliver. 

"  Let  there  be  no  paying  back  injury  with  injury  :  for  it 
is  only  the  fool  who  takes  into  his  usurping  hands  the 
vengeance  which  he  ought  to  reserve  for  God.*     Our 


*  Nihil  ex  reciproco  reponatur  injurice  :    Vindictam  enim,  quajti 
Deo  servare  debemus,  insipientis  est  manibus  tisurpare. 


1 84  Constantine 

faith  should  be  strong  enough  to  feel  full  confidence 
that,  whatever  we  have  to  endure  from  the  fury  of  men 
like  these,  will  avail  with  God  with  all  the  grace  of  mar- 
tyrdom. For  what  is  it  in  this  world  to  conquer  in  the 
name  of  God,  unless  it  be  to  bear  with  fortitude  the  dis- 
ordered attack  of  men  who  trouble  the  peaceful  followers 
of  the  law! 

"  If  you  observe  my  will,  you  will  speedily  find  that, 
thanks  to  the  supreme  power,  the  designs  of  the  pre- 
sumptuous standard-bearers  of  this  wretched  faction  will 
languish,  and  all  men  will  recognise  that  they  ought  not 
to  listen  to  the  persuasion  of  a  few  and  perish  everlast- 
ingly, when,  by  the  grace  of  penitence,  they  may  correct 
their  errors  and  be  restored  to  eternal  life." 

Patience,  leniency,  and  toleration,  hovi^ever,  were 
as  futile  as  force  in  dealing  with  the  Donatists,  who 
bluntly  told  the  Emperor  that  his  prot6ge,  Caecili- 
anus,  was  a  "  worthless  rascal "  {antistiti  ejus  nebii- 
loni),  and  refused  to  obey  his  injunctions.  Donatus, 
surnamed  the  Great  in  order  to  distinguish  him  from 
the  other  Donatus,  who  had  been  Bishop  of  Casae 
Nigrae,  had  by  this  time  succeeded  to  the  leadership 
of  the  schism  on  the  death  of  Majorinus,  and  the  ex- 
traordinary ascendency  which  he  obtained  over  his 
followers,  in  spite  of  the  powerful  Imperial  influence 
which  was  always  at  the  support  of  Caecilianus,  war- 
rants the  belief  that  he  was  a  man  of  marked  ability. 
Learned,  eloquent,  and  irreproachable  in  private  life, 
he  is  said  to  have  ruled  his  party  with  an  imperious 
hand,  and  to  have  treated  his  bishops  like  lackeys. 
Yet  his  authority  was  so  unbounded  and  unques- 
tioned that  his  followers  swore  by  his  name  and 


Constantine  and  the  Donatists     185 

grey  hairs,  and,  at  his  death,  ascribed  to  him  the 
honours  paid  only  to  martyrs. 

Under  his  leadership  the  Donatists  rapidly  in- 
creased in  numbers.  They  were  schismatics  rather 
than  heretics.  They  had  no  great  distinctive  tenet ; 
what  they  seem  to  have  insisted  upon  chiefly  was 
absolute  purity  within  the  Church  and  freedom  from 
worldly  taint.  That  was  their  ideal,  as  it  has  been 
the  ideal  of  many  other  wild  sectaries  since  their 
day.  They  claimed  special  revelations  of  the  Divine 
Will ;  they  insisted  upon  rebaptising  their  converts, 
compelling  even  holy  virgins  to  take  fresh  vows  on 
joining  their  communion,  which  they  boasted  was 
that  of  the  one  true  Church.  Such  a  sect  naturally 
attracted  to  itself  all  the  fanatical  extremists  of 
Africa  and  all  those  who  had  any  grievance  against 
the  Catholic  authorities.  It  became  the  refuge  of 
the  revolutionary,  the  bankrupt,  and  the  criminal, 
and  thus,  inside  the  Donatist  movement  proper, 
there  grew  up  a  kind  of  anarchist  movement  against 
property,  which  had  little  or  no  connection  with  re- 
ligious principles. 

Constantine,  during  the  remainder  of  his  reign, 
practically  ignored  the  African  Church.  He  had 
done  what  he  could  and  he  wiped  his  hands  of  it. 
There  soon  arose  an  extravagant  sect  which  took 
the  name  of  Circumcelliones,  from  their  practice  of 
begging  food  from  cell  to  cell,  or  cottage  to  cottage. 
They  renounced  the  ordinary  routine  of  daily  Hfe. 
Forming  themselves  into  bands,  and  styling  them- 
selves the  Champions  of  the  Lord  {ayooviGtDioi), 
they  roamed  through  the  countryside,  which  they 


1 86  Constantine 

kept  in  a  state  of  abject  terror.  St.  Augustine,  in  a 
well-known  passage,  declares  that  when  their  shout 
of  "  Praise  be  to  God ! "  was  heard,  it  was  more 
dreaded  than  the  roar  of  a  lion.  They  were  armed 
with  wooden  clubs,  which  they  named  "  Israels," 
and  these  they  did  not  scruple  to  use  upon  the 
Catholics,  whose  churches  they  entered  and  plun- 
dered, committing  the  most  violent  excesses,  though 
they  were  pledged  to  celibacy.  Gibbon  justly  com- 
pares them  to  the  Camisards  of  Languedoc  at  the 
commencement  of  the  i8th  century,  and  others  have 
likened  them  to  the  Syrian  Assassins  at  the  time  of 
the  Crusades  and  the  Jewish  Sicarii  of  Palestine  dur- 
ing the  first  century  of  the  Christian  era.  They 
formed,  it  seems,  a  sort  of  Christian  Jacquerie,  pos- 
sessed in  their  wilder  moments  with  a  frantic  passion 
for  martyrdom  and  imploring  those  whom  they  met 
to  kill  them.  The  best  of  them  were  fit  only  for  a 
madhouse  ;  the  worst  were  fit  only  for  a  gaol.  Prob- 
ably they  had  little  connection  with  the  respectable 
Donatists  in  the  cities,  whose  organisation  was  pre- 
cisely the  same  as  that  of  the  Catholics,  and  their 
operations  were  mainly  restricted  to  the  thinly  popu- 
lated districts  on  the  borders  of  the  desert. 

On  one  occasion,  however,  Constantine  was  obliged 
to  interfere.  The  Donatists  in  Cirta, — the  capital  of 
Numidia, — which  had  been  renamed  Constantina  in 
honour  of  the  Emperor,  had  forcibly  seized  the 
church  of  the  Catholics,  that  had  been  built  at  Con- 
stantine's  command.  The  Catholics,  therefore,  ap- 
pealed to  the  Emperor,  and  knowing  that  he  was 
pledged  to  a  policy  of  non-interference,  they  did  not 


Constantine  and  the  Donatists     187 

ask  for  punishment  against  the  Donatists,  or  even 
for  the  restoration  of  the  church  in  question,  but 
simply  that  a  new  site  might  be  given  them  out  of 
public  moneys.  The  Emperor  granted  their  request, 
ordering  that  the  building  as  well  as  the  site  should  be 
paid  for  by  the  State,  and  granting  immunity  from 
all  public  ofifices  to  the  Catholic  clergy  of  the  town. 
In  his  letter  Constantine  does  not  mince  his  language 
with  respect  to  the  Donatists. 

"They  are  adherents,"  he  says,  "of  the  Devil,  who  is 
their  father  ;  they  are  insane,  traitors,  irreligious,  pro- 
fane, ranged  against  God  and  enemies  of  the  Holy 
Church.  Would  to  Heaven!"  he  concludes,  "that 
these  heretics  or  schismatics  might  have  regard  even 
now  for  their  own  salvation,  and,  brushing  aside  the 
darkness,  turn  their  eyes  to  see  the  true  light,  leaving 
the  Devil,  and  flying  for  refuge,  late  though  it  be,  to  the 
one  and  true  God,  who  is  the  judge  of  all !  But  since  they 
are  set  upon  remaining  in  their  wickedness  and  wish  to 
die  in  their  iniquities,  our  warning  and  our  previous 
long  continued  exhortations  must  suffice.  For  if  they 
had  been  willing  to  obey  our  commandments,  they 
would  now  be  free  from  all  evil." 

Evidently  the  Emperor  was  thoroughly  weary  of 
the  whole  controversy,  and  disgusted  at  such  unrea- 
soning contumacy.  The  same  feelings  find  power- 
ful expression  in  the  letters  and  manifestoes  of  St. 
Augustine,  a  century  later,  when  the  great  Bishop 
of  Hippo  constituted  himself  the  champion  of  the 
Catholic  Church  and  played  the  foremost  part  in 
the  stormy  debates  which  preceded  the  final  disap- 


1 88  Constantine 

pearance  of  the  Donatist  schism,  after  the  Council  of 
Carthage  in  410.  Then  the  momentous  decision 
was  reached  that  all  bishops  who,  after  three  appeals 
to  them  to  return  to  the  Church,  still  refused  sub- 
mission, should  be  brought  back  to  the  Catholic  fold 
by  force.  The  point  in  dispute  was  still  just  what 
it  had  been  in  the  days  of  Constantine,  whether  a 
Christian  Church  could  be  considered  worthy  of  the 
name  if  it  had  admitted  faithless  and  unworthy 
members,  or  if  the  ministers  had  been  ordained  by 
bishops  who  had  temporised  with  their  consciences 
and  fallen  short  of  the  loftiest  ideal  of  duty.  That 
was  the  great  underlying  principle  at  stake  in  the 
Donatist  controversy,  though,  as  in  all  such  contro- 
versies, the  personal  element  was  paramount  when 
the  schism  began,  and  was  still  the  cause  of  the  bit- 
terness and  fury  with  which  the  quarrel  was  con- 
ducted long  after  the  intrigues  of  Lucilla  and  the 
personal  animosities  between  Caecilianusand  the  Nu. 
midian  bishops  had  ceased  to  be  of  interest  or  mo- 
ment to  the  living  Church.  And  it  is  interesting  to 
note  that  while  it  was  the  Donatists  themselves  who 
had  made  the  first  appeal  unto  Caesar  by  asking 
Constantine  to  judge  between  them  and  Csecilianus, 
in  St.  Augustine's  day  the  Donatists  hotly  denied 
the  capacity  of  the  State  to  take  cognisance  of  spiritual 
things.  What,  they  asked,  has  an  Emperor  to  do 
with  the  Church  ?     Quid  est  Imperatori  cum  Ecclesia  ? 


STATUt  OF  CONSTANTINE  FROM  THE   PORCH  OF   SAN  GIOVANNI  IN 
LATERAN,  AT  ROME. 


CHAPTER   X 

THE   ARIAN   CONTROVERSY 

IF  Constantine  beheld  with  impatience  the  irrecon-  i 
cilable  fury  of  the  Donatists,  who  refused  either 
to  respect  his  wishes  for  Christian  unity  or  to  obey 
the  bishops  of  the  Western  Church  ;  if  he  angrily 
washed  his  hands  of  their  stubborn  factiousness  and 
committed  them  in  despair  to  the  judgment  of  God, 
we  may  imagine  with  what  bitterness  of  soul  he  be- 
held the  gathering  of  the  storm  of  violent  contro- 
versy which  is  associated  with  the  two  great  names 
of  Arius  and  Athanasius.  This  was  a  controversy, 
and  Arianism  was  a  heresy,  which,  unlike  the  Don- 
atist  schism,  were  confined  to  no  single  province  of  the 
Empire,  but  spread  like  a  flood  over  the  Eastern 
Church,  raising  issues  of  tremendous  importance, 
vital  to  the  very  existence  of  Christianity.  It  started 
in  Alexandria.  No  birthplace  could  have  been  more 
appropriate  to  a  system  of  theology  which  was  pro- 
fessedly based  upon  pure  reason  than  the  great  uni- 
versity city  where  East  and  West  met,  the  home  of 
Neo-Platonism,  the  inheritor  of  the  Hellenic  tradi- 
tion, and  the  chief  exponent  of  Hellenism,  as  under- 
stood and  professed  by  Greeks  who  for  centuries 
189 


190  Constantine 

had  been  subject  to  and  profoundly  modified  by 
Oriental  ideas  and  thought. 

We  must  deal  very  briefly  with  its  origin.  Arius 
was  born  in  the  third  quarter  of  the  third  century, 
according  to  some  accounts  in  Libya,  according  to 
others  in  Alexandria.  He  was  ordained  deacon  by  the 
Patriarch  Peter  and  presbyter  by  Achillas,  who  ap- 
pointed him  to  the  church  called  Baucalis,  the  old- 
est and  one  of  the  most  important  of  the  city  churches 
of  Alexandria.  Arius  had  been  in  schism  in  his  earlier 
years,  ^^e  had  joined  the  party  of  Meletius,  Bishop 
of  Lycopolis,  who  was  condemned  by  a  synod  of 
Egyptian  bishops  in  306  for  insubordination  and  irre- 
gularity of  conduct  ;  but  he  had  made  submission  to 
Achillas,  and  during  the  latter's  short  tenure  of  the 
see,  Arius  became  a  power  in  Alexandria.  'We  are 
told,  indeed,  that  on  the  death  of  Achillas  in  312  or 
313  Arius  was  a  candidate  for  the  vacant  throne,  and 
Theodoretus  states  that  he  was  greatly  mortified  at 
being  passed  over  in  favour  of  Alexander.  But  there 
is  no  indication  of  personal  animosity  or  quarrel  be- 
tween the  bish6p  and  the  parish  priest  until  five  or 
six  years  later.  On  the  contrary,  Alexander  is  said 
to  have  held  Arius  in  high  esteem,  and  the  fame  of 
the  priest  of  Baucalis  spread  abroad  through  the  city 
as  that  of  an  earnest  worker,  a  strict  and  ascetic 
Hver,  and  a  powerful  preacher  who  dealt  boldly  and 
frankly  with  the  great  principles  of  the  faith.  Jn\ 
person,  Arius  was  of  tall  and  striking  presence,  con- 
spicuous wherever  he  moved  by  his  sleeveless  tunic 
and  narrow  cloak,  and  gifted  with  great  conversa- 
tional powers  and  charm  of  manner.     He  was  also 


The  Arian  Controversy  191 

capable  of  infecting  others  with  the  enthusiasm 
which  he  felt  himself.  Arius  has  been  described  for 
us  mainly  by  his  enemies,  who  considered  him  a  very 
anti-Christ,  and  attributed  his  remarkable  success  to 
the  direct  help  of  the  Evil  One.  We  may  be  sure 
that,  like  all  the  great  religious  leaders  of  the  world, 
— among  whom,  heretic  though  he  was,  he  deserves 
a  place, — he  was  fanatically  sincere  and  the  doctrine 
which  he  preached  was  vital  and  fecund,  even  though 
the  vitality  and  fecundity  were  those  of  error. 

It  was  not,  apparently,  until  the  year  319  that 
serious  disturbance  began  in  the  Christian  circles  of 
Alexandria.  There  would  first  of  all  be  whispers 
that  Arius  was  preaching  strange  doctrine  and  hand- 
ling the  great  mysteries  somewhat  boldly  and  dog- 
matically. Many  would  doubt  the  wisdom  of  such 
outspokenness,  quite  apart  from  the  question  whether 
the  doctrine  taught  was  sound  ;  others  would  exhibit 
the  ordinary  distrust  of  innovation  ;  others  would 
welcome  this  new  kindling  of  theological  interest 
from  the  mere  pleasure  of  debate  and  controversy. 
We  do  not  suppose  that  any  one,  not  even  Arius 
himself,  foresaw — at  any  rate,  at  first — the  extra- 
ordinary and  lamentable  consequences  that  were  to 
follow  from  his  teaching.  The  Patriarch  Alexander 
has  been  blamed  for  not  crushing  the  infant  heresy 
at  its  birth,  for  not  stopping  the  mouth  of  Arius  be- 
fore the  mischief  was  done.  It  is  easy  to  be  wise 
after  the  event.  Doubtless  Alexander  did  not  ap- 
preciate the  danger ;  possibly  also  he  thought  that 
if  he  waited,  the  movement  would  subside  of  itself. 
He  may  very  well  have  beheved  that  this  popular 


192  Constantine 

preacher  would  lose  his  hold,  that  some  one  else 
would  take  his  place  as  the  fashionable  clergyman 
of  the  hour,  that  the  extravagance  of  his  doctrines 
would  speedily  be  forgotten.  Moreover,  Arius' was 
a  zealous  priest,  doing  good  work  in  his  own  way, 
and  'long  experience  has  shewn  that  it  is  wise  for 
ecclesiastical  superiors  to  give  able  men  of  marked 
power  and  originality  considerable  latitude  in  the 
expression  of  their  views. 

As  time  went  on,  however,  it  became  clear  that 
Alexander  must  intervene.  Arius  was  now  the  en- 
thusiastic advocate  of  theories  which  aimed  at  the 
very  root  of  the  Christian  religion,  inasmuch  as  they 
denied  the  essential  Godhead  of  Christ.  It  was  no 
longer  a  case  of  a  daring  thinker  tentatively  hinting 
at  doctrines  which  were  hardly  in  accord  with  estab- 
lished belief.  Arius  was  devoting  himself  just  to 
those  points  where  he  was  at  variance  with  his  fel- 
lows, was  insisting  upon  them  in  season  and  out  of 
season,  and  was  treating  them  as  the  very  essence 
of  Christianity.  He  had  issued  his  challenge  ;  Alex- 
ander was  compelled  to  take  it  up.  The  Patriarch 
sent  for  him  privately.  He  wished  either  to  con- 
vince him  of  his  error  or  to  induce  him  to  be  silent. 
But  the  interview  was  of  no  avail.  Arius  simply 
preached  the  more.  Alexander  then  summoned  a 
meeting  of  the  clergy  of  :Atexandria,  and  brought 
forward  for  discussion  the  accepted  doctrine  of  the 
Holy  Trinity  which  Arius  had  challenged.  Arius  and 
his  sympathisers  were  present  and  the  controversy 
was  so  prolonged  that  the  meeting  had  to  be  ad- 
journed ;  when  it  reassembled,  the  Patriarch  endeav- 


The  Arian  Controversy  193 

oured  to  bring  the  debate  to  a  close  by  restating  the 
doctrine  of  the  Holy  Trinity  in  a  form  which  he  hoped 
would  be  unanimously  approved.  But  this  merely 
precipitated  an  open  rupture.  ,For  Arius  immediately 
rose  and  denounced  Alexander  for  falling  into  the 
heresy  of  Sabellianism  "•■and  reducing  the  Second 
Person  in  the  Trinity  to  a  mere  manifestation  of  the 
First. 

It  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  doctrine  of  the 
Holy  Trinity — difificult  as  it  is  even  now,  after  cent- 
uries of  discussion,  to  state  in  terms  that  are  free 
from  all  equivocation — must  have  been  far  more  dif- 
ficult to  state  then,  before  the  Arian  controversy 
had,  so  to  speak,  crystallised  the  exact  meaning  of 
the  terms  employed.  It  seems  quite  clear,  more- 
over, from  what  subsequently  took  place,  that  Alex- 
ander was  no  match  for  Arius  in  dialectical  subtlety 
and  that  Arius  found  it  easy  to  twist  his  chief's  un- 
skilful arguments  and  expressions  into  bearing  an 
interpretation  which  Alexander  had  not  intended. 
At  any  rate  the  inevitable  result  of  the  conference 
was  that  both  sides  parted  in  anger,  and  Arius  con- 
tinued as  before  to  preach  the  doctrine  that  the  Son  , 
of  God  was  a  creaturejl  For  this  was  the  leading  N 
tenet  of  Arianism  and  the  basis  of  the  whole  heresy, 
that  the  Son  of  God  was  a  creature,  the  first  of  all 
creatures,  it  is  true,  and  created  before  the  angels 
and  archangels,  ineffably  superior  to  all  other  creat- 
ures, yet  still  a  creature  and,  as  such,  ineffably  inferior 
to  the  Creator,  God  the  Father  Himself. 

It  does  not  fall  within  the  scope  of  this  book  to 
discuss  in  detail  the  theological  conceptions  of  Arius 


194  Constantine 

and  the  mysteries  of  the  Holy  Trinity.  But  it  is 
necessary  to  say  a  few  words  about  this  new  doctrine 
which  was  to  shake  the  world,  and  to  shew  how  it 
came  into  being.  Arius  started  from  the  Sonship  of 
Christ,  and  argued  thus  :  If  Christ  be  really,  and  not 
simply  metaphorically,  the  Son  of  God,  and  if  the 
Divine  Sonship  is  to  be  interpreted  in  the  same  way 
as  the  relationship  between  human  father  and  son, 
then  the  Divine  Father  must  have  existed  before  the 
Divine  Son.  Therefore,  there  must  have  been  a 
time  when  the  Son  did  not  exist.  Therefore,  the 
Son  was  a  creature  composed  of  an  essence  or  being 
which  had  previously  not  been  existent.  And  inas- 
much as  the  Father  was  in  essence  eternal  and  ever 
existent,  the  Son  could  not  be  of  the  same  essence 
as  the  Father.  Such  was  the  Arian  theory  stated  in 
the  fewest  possible  words.  "  Its  essential  proposi- 
tions," as  Canon  Bright  has  said,  *  "were  these  two, 
that  the  Son  had  not  existed  from  eternity  and  that 
he  differed  from  other  creatures  in  degree  and  not  in 
kind."  There  can  be  nothing  more  misleading  than 
to  represent  the  Arian  controversy  as  a  futile  logo- 
machy, a  mere  quarrel  about  words,  about  a  single 
vowel  even,  as  Gibbon  has  done  in  a  famous  passage. 
It  was  a  vital  controversy  upon  a  vital  dogma  of  the 
Christian  Church. 

Two  years  seeirr  to  have  passed  before  Bishop 
Alexander,  finding  that  Arius  was  growing  bolder  in 
declared  opposition,  felt  compelled  to  make  an  at- 
tempt to  enforce  discipline  within  his  diocese.  The 
insubordinate  priest  of   Baucahs  had  rejected   the 

*  The  Age  of  the  Fathers,  chap.  v. 


The  Arian  Controversy  195 

personal  appeal  of  his  bishop  and  disregarded  the 
wishes  of  a  majority  of  the  Alexandrian  clergy,  and 
we  may  reasonably  suppose  that  his  polemics  would 
grow  all  the  more  bitter  as  he  became  aware  of  the 
rapidly  deepening  estrangement.  He  would  sharpen 
the  edge  of  his  sarcasm  upon  the  logical  obtuseness 
of  his  nominal  superiors,  for  his  appeal  was  always  to 
reason  and  to  logic.  Given  my  premises,  he  would 
say,  where  is  the  flaw  in  my  deductions,  and  wherein 
do  my  syllogisms  break  down?  Byjjie-^iear- 321 
Arius  was  the  typical  rebellious  priest,  profoundly 
self-confident,  rejoicing  in  controversy,  dealing  hard 
blows  all  around  him,  and  prepared  to  stoop  to  any 
artifice  in  order  to  gain  adherents.  To  win  over  the 
mob,  he  was  ready  to  degrade  his  principles  to  the 
mob's  understanding. 

Alexander  summoned  a  provincial  synod  of  A 
hundred  Egyptian  and  Libyan  bishops  to  pronounce 
judgment  upon  the  doctrines  and  the  person  of 
Arius.  Attended  by  his  principal  supporters,  Arius 
appeared  before  the  synod  and  boldly  stood  to  his 
guns.  He  maintained,  that  is  to  say,  that  God  had 
not  always  been  Father;  that  the  Word  was  the  creat- 
ure and  handiwork  of  the  Father;  that  the  Son  was 
not  like  the  Father  according  to  substance  and  was 
neither  the  true  Word  nor  the  true  Wisdom,  having 
been  created  by  the  Word  and  Wisdom  which  are  in 
God;  that  by  His  nature  He  was  subject  to  change 
like  all  other  rational  creatures ;  that  the  Son  does 
not  perfectly  know  either  the  Father  or  His  own  es- 
sence, and  that  Jesus  Christ  is  not  true  God.  The 
majority  of  the  bishops  listened  with  horror  as  Arius 


196  Constantine 

thus  unfolded  his  daring  and,  in  their  ears,  blas- 
phemous creed.  One  of  them  at  length  put  a 
searching  test  question.  "  If,"  he  asked,  "  the  Word 
of  God  is  subject  to  change,  would  it  have  been  pos- 
/sible  for  the  Word  to  change,  as  Satan  had  changed, 
Vfrom  goodness  to  wickedness?"  "Yes,"  came  the 
ahswer.  Thereupon  the  synod  promptly  excom- 
municated Arius  and  his  friends,  including  two 
bishops,  Secundus  of  Ptolemais  in  the  Pentapolis 
and  Theonas  of  lyiarmorica,  together  with  six  priests 
and  six  deacons.  The  synod  also  anathematised  his 
doctrines.  •  The  Arian  heresy  had  formally  begun. 
Arius  quitted  Alexandria  and  betook  himself  to 
Palestine,  where  he  and  his  companions  received 
hospitable  treatment  at  the  hands  of  some  of  the 
bishops,  notably  Eusebius  of  Caesarea  and  Paulinus 
of  Tyre.  He  bore  himself  very  modestly,  assuming 
the  role  not  of  a  rebel  against  authority,  but  of  one 
who  had  been  deeply  wronged,  because  he  had  been 
grievously  misunderstood.  He  was  no  longer  the 
turbulent  priest,  strong  in  the  knowledge  of  his  intel- 
lectual superiority  over  his  bishop,  but  a  minister  of 
the  Church  who  had  been  cast  out  from  among  the 
faithful  and  whose  one  absorbing  desire  was  to  be 
restored  to  communion.  He  did  not  ask  his  kindly 
hosts  to  associate  themselves  with  him.  He  merely 
begged  that  they  should  use  their  good  ofifices  with 
Alexander  to  effect  a  reconciliation,  and  that  they 
should  not  refuse  to  treat  him  as  a  true  member 
of  the  Church.  A  few,  like  Macarius  of  Jerusalem, 
rejected  his  overtures,  but  a  large  number  of  bishops 
in  the  Province — if  we  may  so  term  it — of  the  Patri- 


The  Arian  Controversy  197 

arch  of  Antioch  acceded  to  his  wishes.  No  doubt 
Arius  presented  his  case,  when  he  was  suing  for 
recognition  and  favour,  in  a  very  different  form  from 
that  in  which  he  had  presented  it  from  the  rostrum 
of  his  church  at  BaucaHs.  He  was  as  subtle  in  his 
knowledge  of  the  ways  of  the  world  as  in  his  know- 
ledge of  the  processes  of  logic.  Nevertheless,  he  can- 
not possibly  have  disguised  the  main  doctrine  which 
he  had  preached  for  years — the  doctrine,  that  is  to 
say,  that  the  Son  was  inferior  to  the  Father  and  had 
been  created  by  the  Father  out  of  a  substance  other 
than  His  own — and  the  fact  that  the  champion  of  such 
a  doctrine  received  recognition  at  the  hands  of  so 
many  bishops  seems  to  prove  that  the  Church  had  not 
yet  formulated  her  belief  in  respect  of  this  mystery 
with  anything  like  precision  ;  that  theories  similar  to 
those  advocated  by  Arius  were  rife  throughout  the 
East  and  were  by  no  means  repugnant  to  the  general 
tendency  of  its  thought. 

Arianism  would  naturally,  and  did  actually,  make 
a  most  potent  appeal  to  minds  of  very  varying 
quality  anjd  calibre.  It  appealed,  for  example,  to 
those  Christians  who  had  not  quite  succeeded  in 
throwing  off  the  influences  of  the  paganism  around 
them,  a  class  obviously  large  and  comprising 
within  it  alike  the  educated  who  were  under 
the  spell-  of  the  religious  philosophy  of  thc^N^o- 
Platonists,  and  the  uneducated  and  illiterate  who 
believed,  or  at  any  rate  spoke  as  if  they  believed, 
in  a  multiplicity  of  gods.  To  minds,  therefore, 
still  insensibly  thinking  in  terms  of  polytheism 
one  can  understand  the  attraction  of  the  leading 


198  Constantine 

thought  of  Arianism,  viz.,  one  supreme,  eternal, 
omnipotent  God,  God  the  Father,  and  a  secondary 
God,  God  the  Son,  God  and  creature  in  one,  and 
therefore  the  better  fitted  to  be  intermediary  between 
the  unapproachable  God  and  fallen  humanity.  For 
how  many  long  centuries  had  not  the  world 
believed  in  demi-gods  as  it  had  believed  in 
gods?  Arianism,  on  one  side  of  its  character, 
enabled  men  to  cast  a  lingering  look  behind  on  an 
outworn  creed  which  had  not  been  wholly  gross  and 
which  had  not  been  too  exacting  for  human  frailty. 
Moreover,  there  were  many  texts  in  Holy  Scripture 
which  seemed  in  the  most  explicit  language  to  cor- 
roborate the  truth  of  Arius's  teaching.  '*  My  Father 
is  -greater  than  I,"  so  Christ  had  Himself  said,  and 
the  obvious  and  literal  meaning  of  the  words  seemed 
entirely  inconsistent  with  any  essential  co-equality 
^  of  Son  and  Father.  The  text,  of  course,  is  subject 
to  another — if  more  recondite — interpretation,  but 
the  history  of  religion  has  shewn  that  the  origin  of 
most  sects  has  been  due  to  people  fastening  upon 
individual  texts  and  founding  upon  them  doctrines 
both  great  and  small. 

Again, — and  perhaps  this  was  the  strongest  claim 
that  Arianism  could  put  forward, — it  appealed  to 
men's  pride  and  belief  in  the  adequacy  of  their 
reason.  Mankind  has  always  hungered  after  a  re- 
ligious system  based  on  reason,  founded  in  reason; 
secure  against  all  objectors,  something  four-square 
and  solid  against  all  possible  assailants.  Arianism 
claimed  to  provide  such  a  system,  and  it  unquestion- 
ably had  the  greater  appearance — at  any  rate  to  a 


The  Arian  Controversy  199 

superficial  view — of  being  based  upon  irrefutable  ar- 
gument. Canon  Bright  put  the  case  very  well  where 
he  wrote"^ : 

"  Arianism  would  appeal  to  not  a  few  minds  by  adopt- 
ing a  position  virtually  rationalistic,  and  by  promising  to 
secure  a  Christianity  which  should  stand  clear  of  phi- 
losophical objections,  and  Catholics  would  answer  by 
insisting  that  the  truths  pertaining  to  the  Divine  Nature 
must  be  pre-eminently  matter  of  adoring  faith,  that  it 
was  rash  to  speculate  beyond  the  limit  of  revelation,  and 
that  the  Arian  position  was  itself  open  to  criticism  from 
reason's  own  point  of  view.  Arians  would  call  on 
Catholics  to  '  be  logical '  ;  to  admit  the  prior  existence 
of  the  Father  as  involved  in  the  very  primary  notion  of 
fatherhood;  to  halt  no  more  between  a  premiss  and  a 
conclusion,  to  exchange  their  sentimental  pietism  for 
convictions  sustainable  by  argument.  And  Catholics 
would  bid  them  in  turn  remember  the  inevitably  limited 
scope  of  human  logic  in  regard  to  things  divine  and 
would  point  out  the  sublime  uniqueness  of  the  divine 
relation  called  Fatherhood." 

If  we  consider  the  subsequent  history  of  the  Arian 
doctrine,  its  coivtiftttfth'eSifth,  the  permanent  appeal 
which,  in  at  least  some  of  its  phases,  it  makes  to 
certain  types  of  intellect  including  some  of  the 
loftiest  and  shrewdest,  there  can  be  no  reason  for 
surprise  that  Arius  met  with  so  much  recognition 
and  sympathy,  even  among  those  who  refused  him 
their  active  and  definite  support.  Alexander  was 
both  troubled  and  annoyed  to  find  that  so  many  of 

*  The  Age  of  the  Fathers,  chap.  vi. 


200  Constantine 

the  Eastern  bishops  took  Arius's  part,  and  he  sent 
round  a  circular  letter  of  remonstrance  which  had 
the  effect  of  arousing  some  of  these  kindly  ecclesi- 
astics to  a  sense  of  the  danger  which  lurked  in  the 
Arian  doctrine.  But  Arius  was  soon  to  find  his 
ablest  and  most  influential  champion  in  the  person^-of 
atiother  Eusebius,  Bishop  of  Nicomedia  in  Bithynia. 
This  Eusebius  had  been  Bishop  of  Berytus  (Beyrout), 
and  it  has  been  thought  that  he  owed  his  translation 
from  that  see  to  the  more  important  one  of  Nico- 
media to  the  influence  of  Constantia,  sister  of 
Constantine  and  wife  of  Licinius.  He  had,  at  any 
rate,  been  suf^ciently  astute  to  obtain  the  good-will 
of  Constantine  on  the  fall  of  his  old  patron  and  he 
stood  well  with  the  court  circle. 

lie  and  Arius  were  old  friends,  for  they  had  been 
fellow-pupils  of  the  famous  Lucian  of  Antioch.  It 
has  been  suggested  that  Eusebius  was  rather  the 
teacher  than  the  pupil  of  Arius,  but  probably  neither 
word  expresses  the  true  relationship.  They  were 
simply  old  friends  who  thought  very  much  alike. 
Arius's  letter  to  Eusebius  asking  for  his  help  is  one 
of  the  most  interesting  documents  of  the  period. 
AHusTwrltes^xviih-hot  indignation  of  the  persecution 
to  which  he  has  been  subjected  by  Alexander,  who, 
he  says,  had  expelled  him  and  his  friends  from  Alex- 
andria as  impious  atheists  because  they  had  refused 
to  subscribe  to  the  outrageous  doctrines  which  the 
Bishop  professed.  He  then  gives  in  brief  his  version 
of  AieXETtder's  teaching  and  of  his  own,  which  he  de- 
clares is  that  of  Eusebius  of  Csesarea  aiid-^U  the 
Eastern  bishops,  with  the  exception  of  a  few.    "  We 


The  Arian  Controversy  201 

are  persecuted,"  he  continues,  "  because  we  have  said, 
'the  Son  has  a  beginning,  but  God  is  without  a  be- 
ginning,' and  *  the  Son  is  made  of  that  which  is  not,' 
and  '  the  Son  is  not  part  of  God  nor  is  he  of  any 
substance.'  "  It  is  the  letter  of  a  man  angry  at  what 
he  conceives  to  be  the  harsh  treatment  meted  out  to 
him,  and  it  has  the  ring  of  honesty  about  it,  for  even 
though  it  distorts  the  views  put  forward  by  Alex- 
ander, there  never  yet  was  a  convinced  theologian 
who  stated  his  opponent's  case  precisely  as  that  op- 
ponent would  state  it  for  himself. 

We  have  not  Eusebius's  answer  to  this  letter,  the 
closing  sentence  of  which  begged  him  as  "a  true  fel- 
low-pupil of  Lucian"  not  to  fail  him.  But  we  know  at 
least  that  it  was  favourable,  for  we  next  find  Arius 
at  Nicomedia  itself,  under  the  wing  of  the  popular 
and  powerful  Bishop,  who  vigorously  stood  up  for 
his  friend.  Eusebius  wrote  more  than  once  to  Alex- 
ander pleading  the  cause  of  the  banished  presbyter, 
and  Arius  himself  also  wrote  to  his  old  Bisnop,  re- 
stating his  convictions  and  reopening  the  entire  ques- 
tion in  a  temperate  form.  The  tone  of  that  letter 
certainly  compares  most  favourably  with  that  of  the 
famous  document  which  Alexander  addressed  to  his 
namesake  at  Byzantium,  warning  him  to  be  on  guard 
against  Arius  and  his  friends.  He  can  find  no  epi- 
thets strong  enough  in  which  to  describe  them. 
They  are  possessed  of  the  Devil,  who  dwells  in  them 
and  goads  them  to  fury  ;  they  are  jugglers  and  trick- 
sters, clever  conjurors  with  seductive  words ;  they 
are  brigands  who  have  built  lairs  for  themselves 
wherein  day  and  night  they  curse  Christ  and  the 


202  Constantine 

faithful ;  they  are  no  better  than  the  Jews  or  Greeks 
or  pagans,  whose  good  opinion  they  eagerly  covet, 
joining  them  in  scofifing  at  the  Catholic  doctrine  and 
stirring  up  faction  and  persecution.  The  Bishop  in 
his  fury  even  declares  that  the  Arians  are  threaten- 
ing lawsuits  against  the  Church  at  the  instance  of 
disorderly  women  whom  they  have  led  astray,  and 
accuses  them  of  seeking  to  make  proselytes  through 
the  agency  of  the  loose  young  women  of  the  town. 
In  short,  they  have  torn  the  unbroken  tunic  of 
Christ.     And  so  on  throughout  the  letter. 

The  historians  of  the  Church  have  done  the  cause 
of  truth  a  poor  service  in  concealing  or  glossing  over 
the  outrageous  language  employed  by  the  Patriarch, 
\^ose  violence  raises  the  suspicion  that  he  must 
have  been  conscious  of  the  weakness  of  his  own  di- 
alectical power  in  thus  disqualifying  his  opponents 
and  ruling  them  out  of  court  as  a  set  of  frantic 
madmen.  "  What  impious  arrogance,"  he  exclaims. 
"  What  measureless  madness  !  What  vainglorious 
melancholy!  What  a  devilish  spirit  it  is  that 
indurates  their  unholy  souls!"  Even  when  every  al- 
lowance is  made,  this  method  of  conducting  a  contro- 
versy creates  prejudice  against  the  person  employing 
it.  ^  It  is,  moreover,  in  the  very  sharpest  contrast  with 
the  method  employed  by  Arius,  and  with  the  tenor 
of  the  letter  written  by  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia  to 
Paulinus  of  Tyre,  praying  him  to  write  to  "  My  lord, 
Alexander."  Eusebius  hotly  resented  the  tone  of 
the  Patriarch's  letter,  and,  summoning  a  synod  of 
Bithynian  bishops,  laid  the  whole  matter  before 
them    for    discussion.      Sympathising    with    Arius, 


The  Arian  Controversy  203 

these  bishops  addressed  a  circular  letter  "  to  all  the 
bishops  throughout  the  Empire,"  begging  them  nl^t 
to  deny  communion  to  the  Arians  and  also  to  seek 
to  induce  Alexander  to  do  the  same.  Alexander, 
however,  stood  out  for  unconditional  surrender. 

Arius  returrjed-to  Palesttn^'where  three  bishops 
permitted  him  to  hold  services  for  his  followers,  and 
the  wordy  war  continued.  Alexander  drew  up  a 
long  encyclical  which  he  addressed  "  to  all  his  fellow- 
workers  of  the  universal  Catholic  Church,"  couched 
in  language  not  quite  so  violent  as  that  which  he 
had  employed  in  writing  to  the  Bishop  of  Byzantium, 
yet  denouncing  the  Anans  in  "no  measured~Terms  as 
"  lawless  men  and  fighters  against  Christ,  teaching 
an  apostasy  which  one  may  rightly  describe  as  pre- 
paring the  way  for  anti-Christ."  In  it-lie  attacks 
Eusebius  of  Nicomedia  by  name,  accusing  him  j)f 
"  believing  that  the  welfare  of  the  Church  depended 
upon  his  nod,"  and  of  championing  the  cause  of  Arius 
not  because  he  sincerely  believed  the  Arian  doctrine 
sp  much  as  in  ofd'er  to  furtheFTris^bwh  ambitious 
interests.  Evidently,  this  was  not  the  first  time  that 
the  two 'prelates  had  been  at  variance,  and  pTrivate 
animosities  acceTTEuated  their  doctrinal  differences. 
The  more  closely  the  original  authorities  are  studied, 
the  more  evident  is  the  need  for  caution  in  accept- 
ing the  traditional  character  sketches  of  Arius  and 
Eusebius  of  Nicomedia.  Alexander  declares  that 
he  is  prostrated  with  sorrow  at  the  thought  that 
Arius  and  his  friends  are  eternally  lost,  after  having 
once  known  the  truth  and  denied  it.  But  he  adds, 
"  I   am    not   surprised.     Did  not  Judas  betray  his 


204  Constantine 

Master  after  being  a  disciple  ?  "  We  are  sceptical 
of  Alexander's  sorrow.  He  closes  his  letter  with  a 
plea  for  the  absolute  excommunication  of  the  Arians. 
Christians  must  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  enemies 
of  Christ  and  the  destroyers  of  souls.  They  must 
not  even  offer  them  the  compliment  of  a  morning 
salutation.  To  say  "  Good-morning  "  to  an  Arian 
was  to  hold  communication  with  the  lost.  Such  a 
manifesto  merely  added  fuel  to  the  fire,  and  the  two 
parties  drew  farther  and  farther  apart. 

Nor  was  Arius  idle.  It  must  have  been  about  this 
time  that  he  composed  the  notorious  poem,  Thalia, 
in  which  he  embodied  his  doctrines.  He  selected 
the  metre  of  a  pagan  poet,  Sotades  of  Crete,  of  whom 
we  know  nothing  save  that  his  verses  had  the  re- 
putation of  being  exceedingly  licentious.  Arius  did 
this  of  deliberate  purpose.  His  object  was  to  pop- 
ularise  his  doctrines.  Sotades  had  a  vogue ;  Arius 
desired  one.  What  he  did  was  precisely  similar  to 
what  in  our  own  time  the  Salvation  Army  has  done 
in  setting  its  hymns  to  the  popular  tunes  and  music- 
hall  ditties  of  the  day.  This  was  at  first  a  cause  of 
scandal  to  many  worthy  people,  who  now  admit  the 
cleverness  and  admire  the  shrewdness  of  the  idea. 
Similarly,  Arius  got  people  to  sing  his  doctrines  to 
the  very  tunes  to  which  they  had  previously  sung 
the  indecencies  of  Sotades.  He  wrote  ballads,  so  we 
are  told  by  Philostorgius — the  one  Arian  historian 
who  has  survived— for  sailors,  millers,  and  travellers. 
But  it  is  certainly  difficult  to  understand  their  popu- 
larity, judging  from  the  isolated  fragments  which 
are   quoted   by  Athanasius  in  his  First  Discourse 


The  Arian  Controversy  205 

Against  //^^  ^rm;w  (chap.  xi.).     According  to  Ath- 
anasius,  the  Thalia  opened  as  follows : 

"  According  to  faith  of  God's  elect,  God's  prudent  ones, 

Holy  children,  rightly  dividing,  God's  Holy  Spirit  re- 
ceiving. 

Have  I  learned  this  from  the  partakers  of  wisdom, 

Accomplished,  divinely  taught,  and  wise  in  all  things. 

Along  their  track  have  I  been   walking,  with  like 
opinions. 

I    am    very    famous,   the    much    suffering    for    God's 
glory. 

And    taught    of    God,    I    have    acquired   wisdom   and 
knowledge." 

It  is  rather  the  unspeakable  tediousness  and  frigid- 
ity of  this  exordium  than  its  arrogant  impiety  that 
strike  the  modern  reader.  Athanasius  then  proceeds 
to  quote  examples  of  Arius's  "  repulsive  and  most 
impious  mockeries."  For  example,  "  God  was  not  al- 
ways a  Father ;  there  was  once  a  time  when  God  was 
alone  and  was  not  yet  a  Father.  But  afterwards  He 
became  a  Father."  Or,  **  the  Son  was  not  always," 
or  "  the  Word  is  not  very  God,  but  by  participation 
in  Grace,  He,  as  all  others,  is  God  only  in  name."  If 
these  are  good  specimens  of  what  Athanasius 
calls  "  the  fables  to  be  found  in  Arius's  jocose  com- 
position," the  standard  of  the  jocose  or  the  ridicu- 
lous must  have  altered  greatly.  JA^hy  such  a  poem 
should  have  been  called  the  Thalia  or  "  Merrymak- 
ing," it  is  hard  to  conceive. 

Yet,  one  can  understand  how  the  ribald  wits  of 
Alexandria  gladly  seized  upon  this  portentous  con- 


2o6  Constantine 

troversy  and  twisted  its  prominent  phrases  into  the 
catch-words  of  the  day.  There  is  a  passage  in 
Gregory  of  Nyssa  bearing  on  this  subject  which  has 
frequently  been  quoted. 

"  Every  corner  of  Constantinople,''  he  says,  "  was  full 
of  thdfr  discussions,  the  streets,  the  market-place,  the 
shops  of  the  money-changers  and  the  victuallers.  Ask  a 
tradesman  how  many  obols  he  wants  for  some  article  in 
his  shop,  and  he  replies  with  a  disquisition  on  generated 
and  ungenerat^d  being.  Ask  the  price  of  bread  to-day, 
and  the  baker  tells  you.  "  The  Son  is  subordinate  to  the 
Father.'  Ask  your  servant  if  the  bath  is  ready  and  he 
makes  answer,  '  Tht  Son  arose  out  of  nothing.'  '  Great 
is  the  only  Begotten,'  declared  the  Catholics,  and  the 
Arians  rejoined,  *  But  greater  is  He  that  begot.'  " 

It  was  a  subject  that  lent  itself  to  irreverent 
jesting  and  cheap  profanity.  The  baser  sort  of 
Arians  appealed  to  boys  to  tell  them  whether  there 
were  one  or  two  Ingenerates,  and  to  women  to  say 
whether  a  son  could  exist  before  he  was  born.  Even 
in  the  present  day,  any  theological  doctrine  which 
has  the  misfortune  to  become  the  subject  of  excited 
popular  debate  is  inevitably  dragged  through  the 
mire  by  the  ignorant  partisanship  and  gross  scur- 
rilities of  the  contending  factions.  We  may  be  sure 
that  the  "Ariomaniacs  " — as  they  are  called — were 
neither  worse  nor  better  than  the  champions  of  the 
Catholic  side,  and  the  result  was  tumult  and  dis- 
order.    In  fact,  says  Eusebius  of  Caesarea, 

"in  every  city  bishops  were  engaged  in  obstinate  conflict 
with  bishops,  people  rose  against  people,  and  almost,  like 


The  Arian  Controversy  207 

the  fabled  Symplegades,  came  into  violent  collision  with 
each  other.  Nay,  some  were  so  far  transported  beyond 
the  bounds  of  reason  as  to  be  guilty  of  reckless  and  out- 
rageous conduct  and  even  to  insult  the  statues  of  the 
Emperor." 

Constantine  felt  obliged  to  intervene  and  addressed 
a  long  letter  to  Alexander  and  Arius,  which  he  con- 
fided to  the  care  of  his  spiritual  adviser,  Hosius, 
Bishop  of  Cordova,  bidding  him  go  to  Alexandria 
in  person  and  do  what  he  could  to  mediate  between 
the  disputants.  We  need  not  give  the  text  in  full. 
Constantine  tegan  with  his  usual  exordium.  His 
consuming  passion,  he  said,  was  for  unity  of  religious 
opinion,  as  the  precursor  and  best  guarantee  of 
peace.  Deeply  disappointed  by  Africa,  he  had 
hoped  for  better  things  from  "  the  bosom  of  the 
East,"  whence  had  arisen  the  dawn  of  divine  light. 
Then  he  continues : 

"But  Ah!  glorious  and  Divine  Providence,  what  a 
wound  was  inflicted  not  alone  on  my  ears  but  on  my 
heart,  when  I  heard  that  divisions  existed  among  your- 
selves, even  more  grievous  than  those  of  Africa,  so  that 
you,  through  whose  agency  I  hoped  to  bring  healing 
to  others,  need  a  remedy  worse  than  they.  And  yet, 
after  making  careful  enquiry  into  the  origin  of  these  dis- 
cussions, I  find  that  the  cause  is  quite  insignificant  and 
entirely  disproportionate  to  such  a  quarrel.*  ...  I 
gather  then  that  the  present  controversy  originated  as 
follows.     For  when  you,  Alexander,  asked  each  of  the 

*  ayav   evTsXrji  xai   ovSajuc^i   ci^ia  r^S    zoiavrtfi  cptXo- 


2o8  Constantine 

presbyters  what  he  thought  about  a  certain  passage  in 
the  Scriptures,  or  rather  what  he  thought  about  a  certain 
aspect  of  a  foolish  question,  and  you,  Arius,  without  due 
consideration  laid  down  propositions  which  never  ought 
to  have  been  conceived  at  all,  or,  if  conceived,  ought  to 
have  been  buried  in  silence,  dissension  arose  between 
you  ;  communion  was  forbidden  ;  and  the  most  holy 
people,  torn  in  twain,  no  longer  preserved  the  unity  of  a 
common  body." 

The  Emperor  then  exhorts  them  to  let  both  the 
unguarded  question  and  the  inconsiderate  answer 
be  forgotten  and  forgiven.  The  subject,  he  says, 
never  ought  to  have  been  broached,  but  there  is 
always  mischief  found  for  idle  hands  to  do  and  idle 
brains  to  think.  The  difference  between  you,  he 
insists,  has  not  arisen  on  any  cardinal  doctrine  laid 
down  in  the  Scriptures,  nor  has  any  new  doctrine 
been  introduced.  "You  hold  one  and  the  same 
view";*  reunion,  therefore,  is  easily  possible.  So 
little  does  the  Emperor  appreciate  the  importance  of 
the  questions  at  issue,  that  he  goes  on  to  quote  the 
example  of  the  pagan  philosophers  who  agree  to 
disagree  on  details,  while  holding  the  same  general 
principles.  How  then,  he  asks,  can  it  be  right  for 
brethren  to  behave  towards  one  another  like  enemies 
because  of  mere  trifling  and  verbal  differences  ?f 
"Such  conduct  is  vulgar,  childish,  and  petulant,  ill- 
befitting  priests  of  God  and  men  of  sense.  It  is  a 
wile  and  temptation  of  the  Devil.     Let  us  have  done 


*  dXX'  Eva  Hal  rov  avrbv  e'xsts  Xoyi6udv. 

f  8t  oXi'yai  nai  /uaraiaS  pri/xdzoov  kv  rjulv  (ptXovetHt'a?. 


The  Arian  Controversy  209 

with  it.  If  we  cannot  all  think  alike  on  all  topics, 
we  can  at  least  all  be  united  on  the  great  essentials. 
As  far  as  regards  divine  Providence,  let  there  be 
one  faith  and  one  understanding,  one  united  opinion 
in  reference  to  God."  And  then  the  letter  concludes 
with  the  passionate  outburst : 

"  Restore  me  then  my  quiet  days  and  untroubled 
nights,  that  I  may  retain  my  joy  in  the  pure  light  and, 
for  the  rest  of  my  days,  enjoy  the  gladness  of  a  peaceful 
life.  Else  I  needs  must  groan  and  be  diffused  wholly  in 
tears,  and  know  no  comfort  of  mind  till  I  die.  For 
while  the  people  of  God,  my  fellow-servants,  are  thus 
torn  asunder  in  unlawful  and  pernicious  controversy,  how 
can  I  be  of  tranquil  mind  ?  " 

Some  have  seen  in  this  letter  proof  of  the 
Emperor's  consummate  wisdom,  and  have  described 
its  language  as  golden  and  the  triumph  of  common 
sense.  It  seems  to  us  a  complete  exposure  of  his 
profound  ignorance  of  the  subject  in  which  he  had 
interfered.  It  was  easy  to  say  that  the  question 
should  not  have  been  raised.  "  Qiiieta  non  niovere" 
is  an  excellent  motto  in  theology  as  in  politics.  But 
this  was  precisely  one  of  those  questions  which, 
when  once  raised,  are  bound  to  go  forward  to  an 
issue.  The  time  was  ripe  for  it.  It  suited  the  taste 
and  temper  of  the  age,  and  the  resultant  storm  of 
controversy,  so  easily  stirred  up,  was  not  easily 
allayed.  For  Constantine  to  tell  Alexander  and 
Arius  that  theirs  was  merely  a  verbal  quarrel  on  an 
insignificant  and  non-essential  point,  or  that  they 
were  really  of  one  and  the  same  mind,  and  held  one 


2IO 


Constantine 


and  the  same  view  on  all  essentials,  was  grotesquely 
absurd.  The  question  at  issue  was  none  other  than 
the  Divine  Nature  of  the  Son. Q£.0od.  If  theology 
is  of  any  value  or  importance  at  all,  it  is  impossible 
to  conceive  a  more  essential  problem. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   COUNCIL   OF   NIC^A 

CONSTANTINE'S  letter  was  fruitless.  Hosius 
sought  to  play  the  peacemaker  in  vain, 
either  Alexander  nor  Arius  desired  peace  except 
,t  the  price  of  the  other's  submission,  and  neither 
\v:as  prepared  to  submit.  Hosius,  therefore,  did  not 
remain  long  in  Alexandria,  and,  returning  to  Con- 
stantine,  recommended  him  to  summon  a  Council  of 
the  Church.  The  advice  pleased  the  Emperor,  who 
at  once  issued  letters  calling  upon  the  bishops  to  as- 
semble at  Nicaea,  in  Bithyhia,  in  the  month  of  June, 
325.  The  invitations  were  accepted  with  alacrity, 
for  Constantine  placed  at  the  disposal  of  the  bishops 
the  posting  system  of  the  Empire,  thus  enabling 
them  to  travel  comfortably,  expeditiously,  and  at  no 
cost  to  themselves. 

"  They  were  impelled,"  says  Eusebius,*  "  by  the  an- 
ticipation of  a  happy  result  to  the  conference,  by  the 
hope  of  enjoying  present  peace,  and  by  the  desire  of  be' 
holding  something  new  and  strange  in  the  person  of  so 
admirable    an    Emperor.      And    when    they    were    all 


De  Vita  Constant.,  ii 


212  Constantine 

assembled,  it  appeared  evident  that  the  proceeding  was 
the  work  of  God,  inasmuch  as  men,  who  had  been 
most  widely  separated  not  merely  in  sentiment  but  by 
differences  of  country,  place,  and  nation,  were  here 
brought  together  within  the  walls  of  a  single  city,  forming 
as  it  were  avast  garland  of  priests,  composed  of  a  variety 
of  the  choicest  flowers." 

The  Council  of  Nicsea  was  the  first  of  the  great 
Oicumenical  Councils  of  the  Church.  There  had 
been  nothing  like  it  before;  nor  could  there  have 
been,  for  no  pagan  Emperor  would  have  tolerated 
such  an  assembly.  The  exact  number  of  those  present 
is  not  known.  Eusebius,  with  irritating  and  unnec- 
essary vagueness,  says  that  "  the  bishops  exceeded 
two  hundred  and  fifty,  while  the  number  of  the  pres- 
byters and  deacons  in  their  train  and  the  crowd  of 
acolytes  and  other  attendants  was  altogether  beyond 
computation,"  There  are  sundry  lists  of  names  re- 
corded by  the  ecclesiastical  historians,  but  unfortun- 
ately all  are  incomplete.  However,  as  a  confident 
legend  grew  up  within  fifty  years  of  the  Council  that 
the  bishops  were  318  in  number,  and  as  the  Council 
itself  became  known  as  "The  Council  of  the  318," 
we  may  accept  that  figure  without  much  demur. 
Very  few  came  from  the  West.  Hosius  of  Cordova 
seems  to  have  been  the  only  representative  of  the 
Spanish  Church,  and  Nacasius  of  Divio  the  only  repre- 
sentative of  Gaul.  The  Bishops  of  Aries,  Autun, 
Lyons,  Treves,  Narbonne,  Marseilles,  Toulouse — all 
cities  of  first-class  importance — were  absent.  Eus- 
torgius  came  from  Milan;  Marcus  from  Calabria; 
Capito  from  Sicily.     The  aged  Sylvester  of  Rome 


The  Council  of  Nicaea  213 

would  have  attended,  had  his  physical  infirmities 
permitted,  but  he  sent  two  presbyters  to  speak  for 
him,  Vito  and  Vincentius.  Bishop  Domnus  of 
Stridon  represented  Pannonia,  and  Theophilus  the 
Goth  came  on  behalf  of  the  northern  barbarians — 
probably  to  listen  rather  than  to  speak.  Evidently, 
then,  the  composition  of  the  Council  was  overwhelm- 
ingly Eastern.  Greek,  not  Latin,  was  the  language 
spoken,  and  certainly  Greek,  not  Latin,  was  the  heresy 
under  discussion,  for  the  Arian  controversy  could  not 
have  arisen  in  the  western  half  of  the  Empire.  For 
all  practical  purposes  the  Council  of  Nicaea  was  a  well- 
attended  synod  of  the  Syrian  and  Egyptian  Churches. 
The  opinions  there  expounded  were  the  opinions  of 
the  Christian  schools  of  Antioch  and  Alexandria. 

We  may  take  the  names  of  a  few  of  the  bishops 
as  they  pass  through  the  gates  of  Nicsa,  each  accom- 
panied by  at  least  two  presbyters  and  three  slaves, 
riding  on  horseback  or  in  carriages,  with  a  train  of 
baggage  animals  following.  Alexander  was  there, 
bringing  with  him  fourteen  bishops  from  the  valley 
of  the  Nile  and  five  from  Libya.  The  most  con- 
spicuous of  these  were  Potammon  of  HeracleopoHs 
and  Paphnutius  from  the  Thebaid,  both  of  whom 
had  lost  an  eye  in  the  late  persecution,  while  Paph- 
nutius limped  painfully,  for  he  had  been  hamstrung. 
Eustathius,  the  Patriarch  of  Antioch,  came  at  the 
head  of  the  Syrian  and  Palestinian  bishops,  some  of 
whom,  like  Eusebius  of  Caesarea,  were  gravely  sus- 
pected of  being  unsound  in  the  Faith  and  of  having 
been  influenced  by  the  seductions  of  Arianism,  while 
others,  like   Macarius   of  Jerusalem,  were   staunch 


2  14  Constantine 

supporters  of  Alexander.  Another  group  hailed  from 
the  far  Euphrates  and  Armenia — John  of  Persia, 
James  of  Nisibis  in  Mesopotamia,  Aitallaha  of  Edessa, 
and  Paul  of  Neo-Csesarea,  the  tendons  of  whose  wrists 
had  been  seared  with  hot  irons.  Another  group 
came  from  near  at  hand,  the  bishops  of  what  we 
now  call  Asia  Minor,  within  the  sphere  of  influence 
of  the  imperial  city  of  Nicomedia  and  of  its  Bishop, 
Eusebius.  He,  too,  was  there  with  his  friends,  The- 
ognis  of  Nicaea,  Menophantus  of  Ephesus,  and  Maris 
of  Chalcedon,  all  committed  to  the  cause  and  to  the 
doctrines  of  Arius.  Then  there  were  a  group  of 
Thracian,  Macedonian,  and  Greek  bishops,  a  few 
from  the  islands,  and  Csecilianus  from  Carthage. 

Arius^JpOj  u'as  present  with  his  few  faithful  hench- 
men from  Egypt,  proudly  self-confident  as  ever,  but 
trusting  mainly  to  the  advocacy  of  Eusebius  of  Nico- 
media and  to  the  influence  of  the  moderates,  Ijke 
Eoisehiu-s-of  Csesarea.  But  during  the  years  that  he 
had  been  absent  from  Alexandria  a  new  protagonist 
had  arisen  among  the  ranks  of  his  opponents.  Alex- 
ander, so  runs  the  legend,  had  one  day  seen  from  the 
windows  of  his  house  a  group  of  boys  playing  at 
"  church."  Thinking  that  the  imitation  was  too  close 
to  the  reality  and  that  the  lads  were  carrying  the  game 
too  far,  the  Bishop  went  out  to  check  them  and  got 
into  conversation  with  the  boy  who  was  taking  the 
lead  in  their  serious  sport.  Impressed  by  his  earnest- 
ness, he  took  him  into  his  house  and  trained  him  for 
the  ministry.  It  was  Athanasius,  who  now,  as  a 
"young  deacon  of  twenty-five,  accompanied  Alex- 
ander to  Nicaea,  having  already  by  his  cleverness  and 


The  Council  of  Nicaea  215 

zeal  gained  a  remarkable  ascendency  over  the  mind 
of  his  superior.  This  slip  of  a  man — for  he  was  of 
very  slender  build  and  insignificant  stature — was  to 
lay  at  Nicaea  the  sure  foundations  of  his  extraordin- 
ary and  unparalleled  fame  as  the  champion  of  the 
Catholic  Faith. 

So  the  Council  assembled  in  the  June  of  325  in 
the  charming  city  of  Nicaea,  on  the  shores  of  the 
Ascanian  lake.  The  intense  interest  which  it  aroused 
was  not  confined  to  those  who  were  to  take  part  in 
it,  or  even  to  the  Christian  population  of  the  city  and 
district.  It  spread,  so  we  are  expressly  told,  to  those 
who  still  clung  to  the  old  religion.  Debates  on  the 
nature  of  the  Fatherhood  of  God  and  the  Sonship  of 
Christ  would  be  almost  as  welcome  and  absorbing  to 
a  Neo-Platonist  philosopher  as  to  a  Christian  bishop. 
His  pleasure  in  the  intellectual  exercise  was  marred 
by  no  anxiety  lest  it  should  result  in  disturbance  of 
happy  and  settled  belief.  When  Greek  met  Greek 
they  began  forthwith  to  argue,  and  so,  without  wait- 
ing for  the  Council  formally  to  open,  the  early  arriv- 
als at  Nicaea  commenced  their  discussions  with  all 
comers  on  the  question  of  the  hour. 

The  story  of  one  of  these  informal  encounters  is 
told  by  most  of  the  ecclesiastical  writers.  A  certain 
pagan  philosopher  was  holding  forth  with  great  flu- 
ency and  making  mock  of  the  Christian  mysteries,  to 
the  amusement  of  a  number  of  bystanders.  Finally, 
his  challenge  of  contradiction  was  accepted  by  "  a 
simple  old  man,  one  of  the  confessors  of  the  persecu- 
tion," who  knew  nothing  of  dialectics.  As  he  moved 
forward  to  answer  the  scoffer  there  was  a  burst  of 


2i6  Constantine 

laughter  from  some  of  those  present,  while  the  Chris- 
tians trembled  lest  their  unskilled  champion  should 
be  turned  to  ridicule  by  his  practised  opponent.  Their 
anxiety,  however,  was  soon  set  at  rest.  "  In  the  name 
of  Jesus  Christ,  O  philosopher,  listen  !  "  Such  was  the 
old  man's  exordium,  and  the  burden  of  his  few  un- 
studied words  was  to  restate  his  "  artless,  unques- 
tioning belief "  *  in  the  cardinal  truths  of  Christianity. 
There  was  no  argument.  "  If  you  believe,"  he  said, 
"tell  me  so."  "I  believe,"  said  the  philosopher, 
compelled,  as  he  afterwards  explained  it,  to  become 
a  Christian  by  some  marvellous  power.  Such  is  the 
version  of  Sozomen ;  according  to  Socrates  the  old 
man  said,  "  Christ  and  the  apostles  committed  to  us 
no  dialectical  art  and  no  vain  deception,  but  plain, 
bare  doctrine,  which  is  guarded  by  faith  and  good 
works."  f  When  we  consider  the  endless  floods  of 
dialectical  subtlety  which  were  poured  out  during 
and  after  the  Council  of  Nicaea  by  those  engaged  in 
the  Arian  controversy,  it  seems  rather  biting  irony 
that  a  pagan  philosopher  should  have  been  thus 
easily  and  rapidly  converted  from  darkness  to  light. 
It  is  certain,  however,  that  many  of  the  bishops 
collected  at  Nicaea  belonged  to  the  same  class  as  this 
"simple  old  man,"  peasants  who  had  had  no  theo- 
logical training  and  owed  their  elevation — by  the 
suffrages  of  their  congregations — to  the  conspicuous 
uprightness  of  their  lives.  Such  a  one  was  Spyridion, 
of  Cyprus,  a  shepherd  in  mind,  speech,  and  dress,  but 

*  dnepispyaoi  TtKjTEzojitev. 

\  yvixvijv  yvdi.njy,  TttdvEi    xdi   naXoIi    spyoi?    qivXazTo- 
Hevrjv. — Socrates,  i.,  8. 


The  Council  of  Nicaea  217 

with  a  turn  for  rustic  humour.  Around  his  name 
many  legends  have  gathered,  and  none  is  more  de- 
hghtful  than  that  which  tells  how  he  and  his  deacon 
set  out  for  Nicaea  mounted  on  two  mules,  a  white 
and  a  chestnut.  On  the  journey  they  came  to  an 
inn  where  they  found  a  number  of  other  bishops 
bound  on  the  same  errand.  These  prelates  feared 
that  so  rustic  a  figure  as  Spyridion  would  bring  dis- 
credit on  their  religion  and  appear  in  grotesque  con- 
trast with  the  splendour  of  the  Imperial  Court.  So 
during  the  night  they  caused  the  two  mules  to  be 
decapitated,  thinking  that  they  would  thus  prevent 
Spyridion  from  resuming  his  journey.  The  good 
Bishop  was  aroused  before  daybreak  by  his  deacon, 
who  told  him  of  the  disaster.  Spyridion  simply 
bade  him  attach  the  heads  to  the  dead  bodies,  and, 
on  this  being  done,  the  mules  rose  to  their  feet  as 
though  nothing  unusual  had  happened.  When  day 
broke,  it  was  found  that  the  deacon  had  attached 
the  heads  to  the  wrong  shoulders ;  the  white  mule 
now  sported  a  chestnut  head  and  the  chestnut  a 
white.  Still,  it  was  not  thought  necessary  to  repeat 
the  miracle  and  change  the  heads,  for  the  mules  ap- 
parently suffered  no  inconvenience. 

The  preliminary  meetings  of  the  Council  were  held 
in  the  principal  church  of  Nicaea  and  continued  until 
the  arrival  of  the  Emperor,  which  was  not  until  after 
July  3rd,  the  anniversary  of  his  victory  over  Licinius. 
Then  the  state  opening  took  place  in  the  great  hall 
of  the  palace.  Eusebius  gives  us  a  graphic  account 
of  the  memorable  scene.*     Special  invitations  had 

*  De  Vita  Constant.^  iii.,  lo. 


2i8  Constantine 

been  sent  to  all  whose  presence  was  desired,  and 
these  had  entered  and  taken  their  places  in  grave 
and  orderly  fashion  on  either  side  of  the  hall.  Then 
expectant  silence  fell  upon  the  company.  As  the 
moment  for  the  Emperor's  entry  approached,  some 
of  the  members  of  his  immediate  entourage  began  to 
arrive,  but  Eusebius  is  careful  to  mention  that  there 
were  no  guards  or  ofificers  in  armour,  "only  friends 
who  avowed  the  faith  of  Christ."  At  the  signal  that 
Constantine  was  at  hand,  the  whole  assembly  swept 
to  its  feet,  and  the  Emperor  passed  through  their 
midst  like  "  some  heavenly  angel  of  God,  clad  in 
glittering  raiment  that  seemed  to  gleam  and  flash 
with  bright  effulgent  rays  of  light,  encrusted  as  it 
was  with  gold  and  precious  stones."  Yet,  though 
Constantine  was  thus  dazzling  in  externals,  it  was 
evident— at  least  to  the  penetrating  eye  of  the 
courtier  bishop — that  his  mind  was  "  beautified  by 
pity  and  godly  fear."  For  was  not  this  revealed  by 
his  downcast  eyes,  his  heightened  colour,  and  his 
modest  bearing?  Advancing  to  the  upper  end  of 
the  hall,  Constantine  stood  facing  the  assembly, 
while  a  low  golden  stool  was  brought  for  him,  and 
then,  when  the  bishops  motioned  to  him  to  be 
seated,  he  took  his  seat,  and  the  whole  audience  fol- 
lowed his  example.  Beyond  doubt,  most  of  the 
bishops  then  gazed  for  the  first  time  upon  the  Em- 
peror to  whom  they  could  not  be  sufficiently  grateful 
for  all  he  had  done  for  the  Church,  and  Constantine 
himself  might  well  be  flattered  and  pleased  at  the 
homage,  evidently  sincere,  that  was  being  offered  to 
him,  as  well  as  a  little  nervous  at  the  thought  that 


The  Council  of  Nicaea  219 

these  were  the  principal  ministers  and  representatives 
of  the  God  to  whom  he  had  tendered  allegiance. 
There  would  have  been  no  downcast  eye,  no  blush, 
no  marked  modesty  of  carriage,  we  may  suspect,  if 
it  had  been  a  council  of  augurs  and  flamens  that 
Constantine  had  summoned.  In  that  case  the  Em- 
peror would  have  been  perfectly  at  his  ease  as  he 
advanced  up  the  hall,  conscious  that  he  was  the 
supreme  head  of  all  the  priesthoods  represented  in 
his  presence,  and  that  he  was  not  only  worshipper 
but  worshipped. 

Then,  says  Eusebius,  after  a  few  introductory 
words  of  welcome  had  been  spoken,  the  Emperor 
rose  and  delivered  a  brief  address  in  Latin  which 
was  presently  translated  into  Gree^.  He  expressed 
his  delight  at  finding  himself  in  the  presence  of  such 
a  Council,  "  united  in  a  common  harmony  of  senti- 
ment," and  prayed  that  no  malignant  enemy  might 
avail  to  disturb  it,  for  "  internal  dissensions  in  the 
Church  of  God  were  far  more  to  be  feared  than  any 
battle  or  war."  In  well  chosen  language  he  ex- 
plained the  overwhelming  importance  of  unity' and 
implored  his  hearers  as  "  dear  friends,  as  ministers 
of  God,  and  as  faithful  servants  of  their  common 
Lord  and  Saviour,"  to  begin  from  that  moment  to 
"  discard  the  causes  of  dissension  which  had  existed 
among  them  and  loosen  the  knots  of  controversy 
by  the  laws  of  peace."  The  excellent  impression 
created  by  this  speech  was  intensified  by  the  next 
act  of  the  Emperor.  On  his  arrival  at  Nicsea  he 
had  found  awaiting  him  a  great  number  of  peti- 
tions  addressed   to   him    by  the  bishops   accusing 


220  Constantine 

one  another  of  heresy,  or  political  intrigue,  or  too 
strenuous  activity  on  behalf  of  the  fallen  Licinius. 
Socrates,  indeed,  says  that  "  the  majority  of  the 
Bishops  "  were  levelling  charges  against  one  another. 
But  they  received  no  encouragement  from  Constan- 
tine. Seated  there  among  them  he  produced  the 
incriminatory  documents  from  the  folds  of  his  toga, 
called  for  a  brazier,  and  threw  the  rolls  upon  the  fire, 
protesting  with  an  oath  that  not  one  of  them  had 
been  opened  or  read.  "  Christ,"  he  said,  "  bids  him 
who  hopes  for  forgiveness  forgive  an  erring  brother." 
It  was  a  dignified  and  noble  rebuke.  The  story 
reads  best  in  this,  its  simplest  form.  Theodoretus 
amplifies  the  Emperor's  rebuke  and  puts  into  his 
mouth  the  dangerous  doctrine  that,  if  bishops  sin, 
their  offences  ought  to  be  hushed  up,  lest  their 
flock  be  scandalised  or  be  encouraged  to  follow 
their  example.  He  would  even,  he  said,  throw  his 
own  purple  over  an  offending  bishop  to  avoid  the 
evils  and  contagion  of  publicity. 

Such  was  the  opening  of  the  Council.  The  Em- 
peror had  scored  a  great  personal  triumph  and  had 
set  the  bishops  a  notable  example  of  magnanimity. 
But  it  was  not  imitated.  No  sooner  had  the  actual 
business  of  the  Council  begun  than  the  flood-gates 
of  controversy  were  opened.  According  to  Euse- 
bius,  the  Emperor  remained  to  listen  to  their  mu- 
tual recriminations,  giving  ear  patiently  to  all  sides, 
and  doing  what  he  could  to  assuage  animosities  by 
making  the  most  of  everything  that  seemed  to 
tend  towards  compromise.  Unfortunately,  the  re- 
ports of  the  Council  are  strang^Iy^jncojiiplete.     It 


The  Council  of  Nicsea  221 

is  pot  even  explicitly  stated  who  presided.  The 
presidency  of  the  Emperor  was  one  only  of  honour; 
the  actual  presidents  were  probably  the  legates  of 
Pope  Sylvester,  viz.,  Hosius  of  Cordova  and  the 
two  presbyters,  Vito  and  Vincentius.  But  into  the 
controversy  which  rages  round  this  point  we  need 
not  enter. 

The  general  feeling  of  the  Council  was  not  long  in 
declaring  itself.  Arius,  who  was  regarded  as  a  de- 
fendant on  his  trial,  made  his  position  absolutely 
clear.  He  did  not  envelop  himself,  as  he  might 
have  done,  in  a  cloud  of  metaphysics  from  which  it 
would  have  been  difficult  to  gather  his  precise  mean- 
ing. On  the  contrary,  he  seems  to  have  come  pre- 
pared with  a  resume  of  his  doctrines,  and  to  have 
been  ready  to  defend  his  outposts  as  resolutely  as 
his  citadel.  Immediately,  therefore,  the  Council 
became  split  up  into  contending  parties.  There  were 
the  out-and-out  Arians,  few  but  formidable,  and  the 
out-and-out  Trinitarians,  led  with  great  ability  by 
the  young  Athanasius,  whose  reputation  steadily 
rose  as  the  days  passed  by.  There  was  also  a  mid- 
dle party,  led  by  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia  and  sup- 
ported by  Eusebius  of  Caesarea,  whose  intellectual 
and  personal  sympathies  lay  with  Arius  rather  than 
with  Athanasius,  though  they  saw  that  the  great 
majority  of  the  Council  were  against  them,  and  that 
Arius  and  his  opinions  were  sure  of  excommunica- 
tion. Theirs  was  what  we  may  call  the  "  cross-bench 
mind."  They  doubtless  felt,  what  many  who  ap- 
proach this  controversy  at  the  present  day  feel,  that 
if  once  appeal  is  made  to  Reason,  there  must  be  no 


222  Constantine 

further  appeal  beyond  that  to  Faith,  as  to  a  higher 
Court.  Those  who  invoke  Reason  must  not  turn 
round,  when  they  find  themselves  driven  into  an 
ugly  corner,  and  condemn  "the  Pride  of  Reason." 
In  our  view,  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia  was  not  the  ma- 
lignant, self-seeking,  and  entirely  worldly  prelate  he 
is  so  often  represented  as  having  been,  but  a  Bishop 
who  honestly  regretted  that  this  question  had  been 
raised  at  all,  inasmuch  as  he  foresaw  that  it  must 
rend  the  Church  in  twain.  He  would  have  preferred, 
that  is  to  say,  that  the  exact  nature  of  the  Sonship 
of  C-hrist  should  not  be  made  a  matter  of  close  defini- 
tion, should  not  be  made  a  point  of  doctrine  whereon 
salvation  depended,  should  not  be  inserted  in  a  cree37 
but^Mt-rathert^the'individual  conscience  or  to  the 
individual  intellect.  Once  the  question  was  raised, 
his  intellectual  honesty  led  him  to  side  with  Arius, 
but  he  considered  that  to  tear  the  indivisible  gar- 
ment of  Christ  was  a  crime  to  be  avoided  at  any 
cost.  *^Eusebius  was  bent  upon  a  compromise.  Arius 
was  his  old  friend,  and  his  patron,  the  Emperor,  pas- 
sionately  desired  unity.  The  personal  wish  of  the 
monarch  would  be  sure  to  have  some,  though  we 
cannot  say  precisely  how  much,  weight  with  him  in 
determining  his  policy. 

Some  of  the  sessions  of  the  Council  were  marked 
by  uproar  and  violence.  Athanasius  declares  that 
when  the  bishops  heard  extracts  read  from  the  Thalia 
of  Arius,  they  raised  the  cry  of  "  impious,"  and 
closed  their  eyes  and  shut  their  ears  tight  against 
the  admission  of  such  appalling  blasphemy.  There 
is  a  legend,  indeed,  that   St.   Nicholas,   Bishop  of 


The  Council  of  Nicaea  223 

Myra,  was  so  carried  away  by  his  indignation  that  he 
smote  Arius  a  terrific  blow  upon  the  jaw  for  daring 
to  give  utterance  to  words  so  vile.  Theodoretus 
declares  that  the  Arians  drew  up  the  draft  of  a  creed 
which  they  were  willing  to  subscribe  and  had  it  read 
before  the  Council.  But  it  was  at  once  denounced 
as  a  "  bastard  and  vile-begotten  document "  and 
torn  to  pieces.  Then  a  praiseworthy  attempt  was 
made  to  begin  at  the  beginning.  The  proposition 
was  put  forward  that  the  Son  was  from  God. 
"  Agreed,"  said  the  Trinitarians ;  "  Agreed,"  said 
the  Arians,  on  the  authority  of  such  texts  as  "  There 
is  but  one  God,  the  Father,  of  whom  are  all  things," 
and  "  All  things  are  become  new  and  all  things 
are  of  God."  "  But  will  you  agree,"  asked  the  Trin- 
itarians, "  that  the  Son  is  the  true  Power  and  Image 
of  the  Father,  like  to  Him  in  all  things.  His  eter- 
nal Image,  undivided  from  Him  and  unalterable?" 
"  Yes,"  said  the  Arians  after  some  discussion  among 
themselves,  and  they  quoted  the  texts  :  "  Man  is  the 
glory  and  image  of  God,"  "  For  we  which  live  are 
always  delivered  unto  death  for  Jesus'  sake,"  and 
"  In  him  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being." 
"  But  will  you  admit,"  continued  the  Trinitarians, 
"that  the  Son  is  Very  God?"  "Yes,"  replied  the 
Arians,  "  for  he  is  Very  God  if  he  has  been  made 
so."  Athanasius  tells  us  that  while  these  strange 
questions  and  answers  were  being  tossed  from  one 
side  of  the  Council  to  the  other,  he  saw  the  Arians 
"  whispering  and  making  signals  one  to  the  other 
with  their  eyes."  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  we 
have  no  independent  account.     The  savage  abuse 


224  Constantine 

with  which  Athanasius  attacks  the  Arians  in  his 
"Letter  to  the  African  Bishops  "  makes  his  version 
of  what  took  place  at  the  Council  exceedingly  sus- 
pect, "^e  speaks  of  their  "wiliness,"  and  delivers 
himself  of  the  sarcasm  that  as  they  were  cradled  in 
ordure  their  arguments  also  partook  of  a  similar 
character.*  Most  of  the  vilification  in  the  opening 
stages  of  the  Arian  controversy — at  any  rate  most  of 
that  which  has  survived — seems  to  have  been  on  the 
Trinitarian  side. 

The  word  "Homoousion"  had  at  length  been 
uttered  and,  strangely  enough,  by  Eusebius  of  Nico- 
media,  though  it  was  soon  to  become  the  rallying 
cry  of  his  opponents.  He  had  employed  it,  ap- 
parently, to  clinch  the  argument  against  the  Trini- 
tarians, for,  he  said,  if  they  declared  the  Son  to  be 
Very  God,  that  was  tantamount  to  declaring  that 
the  Son  was  of  one  substance  with  the  Father. 
Greatly,  no  doubt,  to  his  surprise,  it  was  seized  upon 
by  his  opponents  as  the  word  which,  of  all  others, 
precisely  crystallised  their  position  and  their  objec- 
tions to  Arianism.  But  before  the  fight  began  to 
rage  round  this  word,  the  moderates  came  forward 
with  another  suggestion  of  compromise,  Eusebius 
of  Caesarea  read  before  the  Council  the  confession  of 
faith  which  was  in  use  in  his  diocese,  after  having 
been  handed  down  from  bishop  to  bishop.  The 
Emperor  had  read  it  and  approved ;  perhaps,  he 
urged,  it  might  similarly  commend  itself  to  the  ac- 
ceptance of  all  parties  in  the  Council.  The  creed 
began  as  follows : 

*  avToi  nev  c3s  kx  Konpiai  orrei  eXaXTjdav  a'A^QcaS  ditoyfji. 


The  Council  of  Nicaea  225 

"  I  believe  in  one  God,  the  Father  Almighty,  maker  of 
all  things  both  visible  and  invisible,  and  in  one  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  the  Word  of  God,  God  of  God,  Light  of 
Light,  Life  of  Life,  the  only-begotten  Son,  the  First-born 
of  every  creature,  begotten  of  the  Father  before  all 
worlds,  by  whom  also  all  things  were  made.  Who  for 
our  salvation  was  made  flesh  and  lived  amongst  men, 
and  suffered,  and  rose  again  on  the  third  day,  and  as- 
cended to  the  Father,  and  shall  come  in  glory  to  judge 
the  quick  and  the  dead.  And  I  believe  in  the  Holy 
Ghost." 

Eusebius,  in  writing  later  to  the  people  of  his  diocese, 
said  that  v^hen  this  creed  was  read  out, 

"  no  room  for  contradiction  appeared  ;  but  our  most 
pious  Emperor,  before  any  one  else,  testified  that  it  com- 
prised most  orthodox  statements.  He  confessed,  more- 
over, that  such  were  his  sentiments,  and  he  advised  all 
present  to  agree  to  it,  and  subscribe  to  its  articles  with 
the  insertion  of  the  single  word  'one  in  substance.'" 

Indeed,  little  objection  could  be  taken  to  the  creed 
of  Eusebius,  which  might  have  been  subscribed  to 
with  equal  sincerity  by  Arius  and  Alexander.  But 
the  great  problem,  which  had  brought  the  Coun- 
cil together,  would  have  remained  entirely  unsettled. 
The  creed  was  rrot- sufricTeTTtly''precise.  It  left  open- 
ings for  all  kinds  of  heresies.  The  Trinitarians, 
therefore,  insisted  upon  inserting  a  few  words  which 
should  more  precisely  define  the  relationship  between 
the  Father  and  the  Son  and  their  real  nature  and 
substance,  and  should  retain  undiminished  the  ma- 
jesty and  Godhead  of  the  Son.     They  put  forward 


226  Constantine 

the  simple  antithesis  'begotten  not  made"  in  refer- 
ence to  the  Son,  whereby  the  Arian  doctrine  that  the 
Son  was  a  creature  was  effectually  negatived.  And 
they  also  adopted  as  their  own  the  word  which  has 
made  the  Council  famous  alike  with  believers  and 
with  sceptics — the  word  "Homoousion." 

Dean  Stanley,  in  his  History  of  the  Eastern 
Church,'^  has  well  said  that  this  is  "  one  of  those 
remarkable  words  which  creep  into  the  language  of 
philosophy  and  theology  and  then  suddenly  acquire 
a  permanent  hold  on  the  minds  of  men."  It  was 
a  word  with  a  notable,  if  not  a  very  remote  past.  It 
had  been  orthodox  and  heretical  by  turns,  a  fact 
which  is  not  surprising  when  we  consider  the  vague- 
ness of  the  term  "  ousia "  and  the  looseness  with 
which  it  had  been  employed  by  philosophical  writers. 

"It  first  distinctly  appeared,"  says  Dean  Stanley, 
"in  the  statement,  given  by  Irenaeus,  of  the  doctrines 
of  Valentius;  then  for  a  moment  it  acquired  a  more 
orthodox  reputation  in  the  writings  of  Dionysius  and 
Theognostus  of  Alexandria;  then  it  was  coloured  with  a 
dark  shade  by  association  with  the  teaching  of  Manes; 
next  proposed  as  a  test  of  orthodoxy  at  the  Council 
of  Antioch  against  Paul  of  Samosata,  and  then  by  that 
same  Council  was  condemned  as  Sabellian." 

Obviously,  therefore,  it  was  not  a  word  to  com- 
mand instantaneous  acceptance;  its  old  associations 
lent  a  certain  specious  weight  to  the  repeated  ac- 
cusation of  the  Arians  that  the  Trinitarians  were 
importing  into  the  Church  fantastic  subtleties  bor- 

*  Lecture  iv. 


The  Council  of  Nicsea  227 

rowed  from  Greek  philosophy,  and  were  encrusting 
the  simple  faith  and  the  simple  language, of  Christ 
and  the  apostles  with  alien  thoughts  and  formulae. 
Athanasius  meets  that  argument  with  a"/z^  qiioque^' 
asking  where  in  Scripture  one  can  find  the  phrases 
which  Arius  had  made  his  own.  Modern  theologians 
have  replied  with  much  greater  force  that  this  im- 
portation of  philosophy  into  the  Christian  religion 
was  inevitable. 

"  The  Church,"  says  Canon  Bright,*  "  had  come  out 
into  the  open,  had  been  obliged  to  construct  a  theologi- 
cal position  against  the  tremendous  attacks  of  Gnosti- 
cism and  to  provide  for  educated  enquirers  in  the  great 
centres  of  Greek  learning.  She  had  become  conscious 
of  her  debt  to  the  wise. 

Elsewhere,  in  the  same  chapter,  he  says:  "It 
would,  indeed,  have  been  childish  to  attempt  to 
banish  metaphysics  from  theology.  Any  religion 
with  a  doctrine  about  God  or  man  must,  as  such,  be 
metaphysical."  v-And  for  the  Arians  to  complain  of 
the  borrowing  of  technical  terms  from  philosophy  by 
their  opponents  was  palpably  absurd.  "^  The  whole  rai- 
son^d'etre  of  the"Arian  movement  was  its  professed 
rationalism,  its  appeal  to  reason  and  logic,  its  con- 
sciousness, in  other  words,  "  of  its  debt  to  the  wise," 
and  its  desire  to  be  able  to  debate  boldly  with  the 
enemy  in  the  gate.  Really,  therefore,  the  adoption 
of  such  a  term  was  of  great  practical  convenience, 
especially  when  once  its  meaning  was  rigidly  defined. 
The  Homoousion,  whereby  the  Word  or  the  Son  was 

*  Age  of  the  Fathers,  chap.  vi. 


228  Constantine 

declared  to  be  of  one  essence  or  substance  with  the 
Father,  asserted  the  undiminished  Divinity  of  the 
Son  of  God,  through  whom  salvation  came  into 
the  world. 

It  is  for  theologians  to  expand  upon  such  a 
text,  but  it  needs  no  theologian  to  point  out  the 
obvious  truth  that  any  diminution  of  the  majesty  of 
the  Son  of  God  must  have  impaired  the  vitality  and 
converting  power  of  Christianity.  The  word,  there- 
fore, was  eagerly  adopted  by  those  who  had  been 
commissioned  to  draw  up  a  creed  to  meet  the  views 
of  the  orthodox  majority  of  the  Council.  That 
creed  was  at  length  decided  upon;  Hosius  of  Cor- 
dova announced  its  completion;  and  it  was  read 
aloud  for  the  first  time  to  the  Council,  apparently 
by  Hermogenes,  subsequently  Bishop  of  Caesarea  in 
Cappadocia.     It  ran  as  follows  : 

"  We  believe  in  one  God,  the  Father  Almighty,  Maker 
of  all  things  both  visible  and  invisible.  And  in  one 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  begotten  of  the 
Father,  only  begotten,  that  is  from  the  substance  of  the 
Father,  God  of  God,  Light  of  Light,  very  God  of  very 
God,  begotten  not  made,  being  of  one  substance  with 
the  Father,  by  whom  all  things  were  made,  both  in 
heaven  and  earth.  Who  for  us  men  and  for  our  salvation 
came  down  and  was  made  flesh,  and  was  made  man,  suf- 
fered and  rose  on  the  third  day,  ascended  into  the 
heavens  and  will  come  again  to  judge  the  quick  and 
the  dead.     And  we  believe  in  the  Holy  Ghost." 

Such  was  the  text  of  the  famous  document  which 
ever  since  has  borne  the  title  of  the  Nicene  Creed. 
It  has  been  added  to  during  the  centuries.     It  has 


The  Council  of  Nicaea  229 

even  lost  one  or  two  of  its  qualifying  and  explana- 
tory sentences.  But  these  modifications  have  not 
touched  its  central  theses,  and,  above  all,  the  Ho- 
moousion  remains. 

In  order  to  make  the  position  absolutely  clear 
and  preclude  even  the  most  subtle  from  placing  an 
heretical  interpretation  upon  the  words  employed, 
there  was  added  a  special  anathema  of  the  Arian 
doctrines. 

"  But  those  who  say,  '  Once  He  was  not,'  and  *  Before 
He  was  begotten,  He  was  not,'  and  '  He  came  into  ex- 
istence out  of  what  was  not,'  or  those  who  profess 
that  the  Son  of  God  is  of  a  different  '  person '  or  *  sub- 
stance,' or  that  He  was  *  made,'  or  is  '  changeable  '  or 
'  mutable' — all  these  are  anathematised  by  the  CathoUc 
Church." 

This  was  the  formal  condemnation  of  Arianism  in 
all  the  Protean  shapes  it  was  capable  of  assum- 
ing, and  the  vast  majority  of  the  bishops  cordially 
approved. 

But  what  of  Arius  and  his  friends,  and  what  of 
the  Eusebian  party?  Interest  centred  in  the  ac- 
tion of  the  latter.  Would  they  accept  the  text  and 
sign?  Or  would  they  hold  fast  to  the  condemned 
doctrines  ?  They  loudly  protested,  of  course,  against 
the  anathema,  and  the  Homoousion  in  the  creed 
itself  was  repugnant  to  their  intellect.  Eusebius 
of  Caesarea  asked  for  a  day  in  which  to  consider 
the  matter.  Theii  he  signed,  and  wrote  a  letter 
to  his  flock  at  Caesarea  excusing  and  justifying 
his  conduct,  and  explaining  in  what  sense  he  could 


230  Constantine 

conscientiously  subscribe  to  the  Homoousion.  He 
bowed  to  the  clear  verdict  of  the  majority  and  to 
the  passionate  wish  of  the  Emperor.  Constantine 
insisted  that  the  creed  should  be  accepted  as  the 
final  expression  of  Catholic  belief,  though  he  would 
have  been  just  as  ready  to  accept  the  creed  of 
Eusebius  himself.  The  presence  or  absence  of  the 
Homoousion  was  of  little  consequence  to  him. 
What  he  wanted  was  unity,  and  he  was  determ- 
ined to  have  it,  for  he  was  already  threatening  re- 
calcitrants with  banishment.  Eusebius  of  Csesarea 
signed.  He  submitted,  in  other  words,  when  the 
Church,  meeting  in  Council,  had  spoken.  The 
Palestinian  and  Syrian  bishops  who  had  supported 
him  in  the  debates  followed  his  example,  comply- 
ing, we  are  told,  with  eagerness  and  alacrity. 

Eusebius  of  Nicomedia,  Theognis  of  Nicaea,  and 
Maris  of  Chalcedon  made  a  rather  more  resolute 
stand.  According  to  one  account,  they  consulted 
Constantia,  the  Emperor's  sister,  and  she  persuaded 
them  to  sign  on  the  ground  that  they  ought  to 
merge  their  individual  scruples  in  the  will  of  the 
majority,  lest  the  Emperor  should  throw  over 
Christianity  in  disgust  at  the  dissension  among  the 
Christians.  According  to  another  story,  Constantia 
recommended  them  to  insert  an  "  iota  "  into  the  text 
of  the  creed,  and  thus  change  the  Homoousion 
into  the  Homoiousion,  to  which  they  could  sub- 
scribe without  violence  to  their  consciences.  They 
could  admit,  that  is  to  say,  that  the  Son  was  of 
"like"  substance  to  the  Father  when  they  could 
not    admit    that    He    was     of    the    "  same "    sub- 


The  Council  of  Nicaea  231 

stance.  The  story  is  obviously  a  fiction  and  part 
of  the  campaign  of  calumny  against  Eusebius  of 
Nicomedia.  He  and  his  two  friends  signed  the 
creed — not  fraudulently  or  with  mental  reservations 
as  the  story  suggests — but  for  precisely  the  same 
reason  that  Eusebius  of  Caesarea  had  signed  it. 
It  was  the  Emperor's  wish  and  they  were  willing 
to  accept  the  decision  of  the  Council,  l^t  they  still 
stood  out. against  signing  the  anathema.  Two  of 
them,  Eusebius  and  Theognis,  wefe^deprived' of 
their  sees  and  sent  into  exile.  Whether  their 
degradation  and  exile  were  due  wholly  to  this  re- 
fusal is  doubtful,  though  as  an  interesting  parallel 
it  may  be  pointed  out  that  Eusebius,  Bishop  of 
Vercellae,  and  Dionysius,  Bishop  of  Milan,  were 
exiled  by  the  Emperor  Valens  in  355  because 
they  refused  to  subscribe  the  condemnation  of 
Athanasius  at  the  Third  Council  of  Milan.  Arius 
and  his  two  most  faithful  supporters  were  excom-  ^ 
municated  and  banished  and  their  writings,  notably  ^ 
the  Thalia,  were  burnt  with  ignominy.  "j'N^ 

The  labours  of  the  Council  were  not  yet  concluded. 
The  Bishops  decided  that  Easter  should  be  observed 
simultaneously  throughout  the  Church,  and  that  the 
Judaic  time  should  give  way  to  the  Christian.  They 
then  drew  up  what  are  known  as  the  Canons  of 
Nicsea.  We  may  indicate  some  of  the  more  import- 
ant, as,  for  example,  the  fifth,  which  provided  that 
all  questions  of  excommunication  should  be  dis- 
cussed in  provincial  councils  to  be  held  twice  a  year; 
the  fourth,  that  there  should  be  no  less  than  three 
bishops  present  at  the  consecration  of  every  bishop, 


v?    -O 


232  Constantine 

and  the  fifteenth,  which  prohibited  absolutely  the 
translation  of  any  bishop,  presbyter,  or  deacon  from 
one  city  to  another.  Some  of  the  canons,  such  as 
the  twentieth,  which  prohibited  kneeling  during 
church  worship  on  Sundays  and  between  Easter 
and  Pentecost;  and  the  eighteenth,  which  rebuked 
the  presumption  of  deacons,  have  merely  an  an- 
tiquarian interest.  The  seventeenth  forbade  all 
usury  on  the  part  of  the  clergy;  the  third  en- 
acted that  no  minister  of  the  Church,  whatever 
his  rank,  should  have  with  him  in  his  house  a 
woman  of  any  kind,  unless  it  were  a  mother,  a  sister, 
or  an  aunt,  or  some  one  quite  beyond  suspicion. 
While  this  canon  was  under  discussion,  one  of  the 
most  exciting  debates  of  the  Council  took  place. 
The  proposal  was  made  that  all  the  married  clergy 
should  be  required  to  separate  from  their  wives,  and 
this  received  a  considerable  measure  of  support. 
But  the  opposition  was  led  by  the  confessor  Paph- 
nutius,  whose  words  carried  the  more  weight  from 
the  fact  that  he  himself  had  been  a  lifelong  celibate. 
He  debated  the  subject  with  great  warmth,  main- 
taining at  the  top  of  his  shrill  voice  that  marriage  was 
honourable  and  the  bed  undefiled,*  and  so  brought 
a  majority  of  the  assembly  round  to  his  way  of 
thinking. 

Then  at  last  this  historic  Council  was  ready  to 
break  up.  But  before  the  bishops  separated,  the 
Emperor  celebrated  the  completion  of  his  twentieth 
year  of  reign  by  inviting  them  all  to  a  great  banquet. 
*  rijxiov  eivai  xdt  ttjv  xoittjv  xdi  avrov  d^davrov  rov 
ydjiiov. 


The  Council  of  Nicaea  233 

"  Not  one  of  themT'-^'sajrs-Eusebius,  *  "  was  missing  and 
the  scene  was  of  great  splendour.  Detachments  of  the 
bodyguard  and  other  troops  surrounded  the  entrance  of 
the  palace  with  drawn  swords  and  through  their  midst  the 
men  of  God  proceeded  without  fear  into  the  innermost 
apartments,  in  which  were  some  of  the  Emperor's  own 
companions  at  table,  while  others  reclined  on  couches 
laid  on  either  side." 

He  gave  gifts  to  each  according  to  his  rank,  singling 
out  a  few  for  special  favour.  Among  these  was 
Paphnutius.  Socrates  says  that  the  Emperor  had 
often  sent  for  him  to  the  palace  and  kissed  the  vacant 
eye  socket  of  the  maimed  and  crippled  confessor. 
Acesius  the  Novatian  was  another,  though  he  stead- 
ily refused  to  abate  one  jot  or  tittle  of  his  old  con- 
victions. Constantine  listened  without  offence,  as 
the  old  man  declared  his  passionate  belief  that  those 
who  after  baptism  had  committed  a  sin  were  un- 
worthy to  participate  in  the  divine  mysteries,  and 
merely  remarked,  with  sportive  irony,  "  Plant  a  lad- 
der, then,  Acesius,  and  cHmb  up  to  Heaven  alone  !  "  t 
At  the  closing  session  the  Emperor  delivered  a 
short  farewell  speech,  in  which_liis__thejiie  was-again 
the  urgent -neeTt'ofnunity  ainl~cmtferffHty^4thin  the 
Christian  Church.  He  implored  the  bishops  to  for- 
get and  forgive  past  offences  and  live  in  peace,  not 
envying  one  another's  excellencies,  but  regarding 
the  special  merit  of  each  as  contributing  to  the  total 
merit  of  all.     They  should  leave  judgment  to  God  ; 

■^  De  Vita  Constant.,  iii.,  15. 

f  6£?,   gJ   'Axedts,   Hkii^iaxa    nai    i.i6vo<i    avafirjU   ti'i    rov 
ovpavov. 


234  Constantine 

when  they  quarrelled  among  themselves  they  simply 
gave  their  enemies  an  opportunity  to  blaspheme. 
How  were  they  to  convert  the  world,  he  asked,  if 
not  by  the  force  of  their  example?  And  then  he 
went  on  to  speak  plain  common  sense.  Men  do 
not  become  converts,  he  said,  from  their  zeal  for 
the  truth.  Some  join  for  what  they  can  get,  some 
for  preferment,  some  to  secure  charitable  help,  some 
for  friendship's  sake.  "  But  the  true  lovers  of  true 
argument  are  very  few :  scarce,  indeed,  is  the  friend 
of  truth."*  Therefore,  he  concluded.  Christians 
should  be  like  physicians,  and  prescribe  for  each 
according  to  his  ailments.  They  must  not  be  fana- 
tics: they  must  be  accommodating.  Constantine 
could  not  possibly  have  given  sounder  advice  to  a 
body  of  men  whose  besetting  sin  was  likely  to  be 
fanaticism  and  not  laxity  of  doctrine.  The  passage, 
therefore,  is  not  without  significance.  The  Church 
had  already  begun  to  act  upon  the  State ;  here  was 
the  State  palpably  beginning  to  react  upon  the 
Church— in  the  direction  of  reasonableness,  com- 
promise, and  an  accommodating  temper.  Then, 
after  begging  the  bishops  to  remember  him  in  their 
prayers,  he  dismissed  them  to  their  homes,  and  they 
left  Nicaea,says  Eusebius,  glad  at  heart  and  rejoicing 
in  the  conviction  that,  in  the  presence  of  their  Em- 
peror, the  Church,  after  long  division,  had  been 
united  once  more. 

Constantine  evidently  shared  the  same  conviction. 
He  had  no  doubt  whatever  that  the  Arian  heresy 
was   finally    silenced.      So  we  find  him  writing  to 

*  Hcit  dTtdvtoi  av  rrji  dXr/Qei'ai  q)tXoi. 


The  Council  of  Nicaea  235 

the  church  at  Alexandria^declaring  that  all  points 
which  seemed  to  be  open  to  different  interpretations 
have  been  thoroughly  discussed  and  settled.  All 
must  abide  by  the  chose  jugce.  Arius  had  been 
proved  to  be  a  servant  of  the  Devil.  Three  hun- 
dred bishops  had  said  it,  and  "  that  which  has 
commended  itself  to  the  judgment  of  three  hun- 
dred bishops  cannot  be  other  than  the  doctrine  of 
God,  seeing  that  the  Holy  Spirit,  dwelling  in  the 
minds  of  so  many  honourable  men,  must  have  thor- 
oughly enlightened  them  as  to  the  will  of  God."  * 
He  took  for  granted,  therefore,  that  those  who  had 
been  led  away  by  Arius  would  return  at  once  to  the 
Catholic  fold.  The  Emperor  also  wrote  another  let- 
ter, which  he  addressed  "  To  the  Churches,"  in  which 
he  declared  that  each  question  at  issue  had  been  dis- 
cussed until  a  decision  was  arrived  at  "  acceptable  to 
Him  who  is  the  inspector  of  all  things,"  and  added 
that  nothing  was  henceforth  left  for  dissension  or 
controversy  in  matters  of  faith. f  Most  of  the  letter, 
indeed,  consists  of  argument  shewing  the  desirability 
of  a  uniform  celebration  of  Easter,  but  one  can  see 
that  the  leading  thought  in  the  writer's  mind  is  that 
the  last  word  had  at  length  been  uttered  on  the  car- 
dinal doctrines  of  the  Christian  Faith.  The  Council 
had  been  a  brilliant  success.  The  three  hundred 
bishops  announced  to  the  Catholic  Church  the  de- 
cisions of  their  "  great  and  holy  Synod,"  with  the 


*  0  yap  ToK  vptaHo6ioi'i  tnidHoTCof;  Tjpsdsv  ovSsv  edrtv 
evEpov  ff  Tov  Qeov  yvoojur/  (Soc,  i.,  9). 

f  Goi  fjir)8kv  ETi  Ttpoi  dtxovoiav  ^  TtidzEooi  aficpi6fitjTrj6lV 
v7toXei7rs69ai  {ibidem). 


236 


Constantine 


explicit  declaration  that  *'  all  heresy  has  been  cut 
out  of  the  Church."  *  Arius  was  banished  and 
Eusebius  of  Nicomedia  with  him.  The  triumph 
of  orthodoxy  seemed  finally  assured. 


*  iiti  TO  Ttddav  a'ips6tv  kKKoitrjvat  (Soc,  i.,  9). 


CHAPTER    XII 

THE   MURDERS   OF   CRISPUS   AND   FAUSTA 

WE  saw  in  the  last  chapter  how  Constantine 
presided  over  the  dehberations  of  the  bishops 
at  Nicsea,  mild,  benignant,  gracious,  and  conde- 
scending. It  is  a  very  different  being  whom  we  see 
at  Rome  in  326,  suspicious,  morose,  and  striking 
down  in  blind  fury  his  own  gallant  son.  The  con- 
trast is  startling,  the  cause  obscure  and  mysterious, 
but  if  the  secret  is  to  be  discovered  at  all,  it  is  prob- 
ably to  be  found  in  the  jealousies  which  raged  in 
the  Imperial  House. 

We  must  look  a  little  closer  at  the  family  of  Constan- 
tine. The  Emperor  himself  was  in  the  very  prime 
of  middle  age,  just  turning  his  fiftieth  year.  His 
eldest  son,  by  his  first  marriage  with  Minervina,  was 
the  hope  of  the  Empire.  Crispus,  as  we  have  seen, 
had  won  distinction  on  the  Rhine,  and  had  just 
given  signal  proof  of  his  capacity  by  his  victories  over 
the  navy  of  Licinius  in  the  Hellespont,  which  had 
facilitated  the  capture  of  Byzantium.  He  was  im- 
mensely popular,  and  the  Empire  looked  to  him,  as 
it  had  looked  to  Tiberius  and  Drusus  three  centuries 
before,  as  to  a  strong  pillar  of  the  Imperial  throne. 
237 


238  Constantine 

But  Crispus — if  the  usually  accepted  theory  be  right 
— had  a  bitter  and  implacable  enemy  in  the  Em- 
press Fausta,  who  regarded  him  as  standing  in  the 
path  of  her  own  children,  and  menacing  their  inter- 
ests by  his  proved  merit  and  abilities.  The  eldest 
of  her  sons,  who  bore  his  father's  name,  was  not  yet 
in  his  teens;  the  second,  Constantius,  had  been  born 
in  319;  the  third,  Constans,  was  a  year  younger. 
Her  three  daughters  were  infants  or  not  yet  born. 
These  three  young  princes,  like  Caius  and  Lucius, — 
to  pursue  the  Augustan  parallel, — threatened  rivalry 
to  Crispus  as  they  grew  up,  the  more  so,  perhaps, 
because  Constantine  had  always  possessed  the  do- 
mestic virtues  which  were  rare  in  a  Roman  Emperor. 
In  his  young  days  one  of  the  court  Panegyrists 
had  eulogised  him  as  a  latter-day  miracle — a  prince 
who  had  never  sowed  any  wild  oats,  who  had  act- 
ually had  a  taste  for  matrimony  while  still  young, 
and,  following  the  example  of  his  father,  Constan- 
tius, had  displayed  true  piety  by  consenting  to  be- 
come a  father,*  Another  Panegyrist  praised  him 
for  "  yielding  himself  to  the  laws  of  matrimony  as 
soon  as  he  ceased  to  be  a  boy,"  and  Eusebius,  more 
than  once,  emphasises  his  virtues  as  a  husband  and 
parent.  Constantine,  we  suspect,  was  a  man  easily 
swayed  by  a  strong-minded  woman,  ambitious  to 
oust  a  step-son  from  his  father's  favour. 

There  was  yet  another  great  lady  of  the  reigning 
house  whose  influence  upon  the  Emperor  has  to  be 
taken  into  account.     This  was  his  mother,  Helena, 

*  Novum  jam  turn  miraculum  juvenis  uxorius  {Pan,  Vet.,  vi., 
c.  2  et  4), 


CONSTANTINE  THE  GREAT  AND  HiS   MOTHER,  ST. 
HELENA,  HOLY,   EQUAL  TO  THE  APOSTLES." 

FROM  A  PICTURE   DISCOVERED   1345,  IN  AN  OLD  CHURCH  OF  MESEMBRIA.) 
FROM    GROSVENOR'S    "CONSTANTINOPLE." 


The  Murders  of  Crispus  and  Fausta  239 

now  nearly  eighty  years  of  age,  but  still  vigorous 
and  active  enough  in  mind  and  body  to  undergo 
the  fatigues  of  a  journey  to  Jerusalem.  Eusebius* 
dwells  upon  the  estimation  in  which  Constantine 
held  his  mother,  to  whom  full  Imperial  honours  were 
paid.  Golden  coins  were  struck  in  her  honour,  bear- 
ing her  effigy  and  the  inscription,  "  Flavia  Helena 
Augusta."  She  amassed  great  riches,  and  although 
it  is  impossible  directly  to  trace  her  influence  upon 
State  affairs,  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  Helena, 
who  owed  her  conversion,  according  to  Eusebius,  to 
the  persuasion  of  her  son,  was  a  woman  of  pro- 
nounced and  decided  character  and  a  great  power  at 
court. 

There  was  also  Constantino's  half-sister,  Constan- 
tia,  the  widow  of  Licinius,  whose  intercession  with 
her  brother  had  secured  for  her  defeated  husband 
an  ill-kept  promise  of  pardon  and  protection.  Con- 
stantia  was  to  exhibit  even  more  striking  proof  of 
her  influence  a  little  later  on  by  her  skilful  advocacy 
of  the  cause  of  Arius  and  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia, 
and  her  share  in  procuring  the  banishment  of  Athan- 
asius.  These  great  ladies  move  in  shadowy  outline 
across  the  stage  ;  we  can  scarcely  distinguish  their 
features  or  their  form  ;  but  we  think  we  can  see  their 
handiwork  most  unmistakably  in  the  appalling  trage- 
dies which  we  now  have  to  narrate. 

In  326  Constantine  went  to  Rome  to  celebrate  the 
completion  of  his  twentieth  year  of  reign.  Diocle- 
tian had  done  the  same — the  only  occasion  upon 
which  that  great  Emperor  had  ever  set  foot  in  the 

*  De  Vita  Const.,  iii.,  p.  47. 


240  Constantine 

ancient  capital,  and  even  then  he  made  all  possible 
haste  to  quit  it.  But  whereas  Diocletian  had  travelled 
thither  with  the  intention  of  abdicating  immediately 
afterwards,  Constantine  had  no  such  act  of  self-abne- 
gation in  his  mind.  Yet  he  was  in  no  festival  mood. 
Not  long  after  his  arrival,  there  took  place  the  ancient 
ceremony  known  as  the  Procession  of  the  Knights, 
who  rode  to  the  Capitol  to  pay  their  vows  to  Jupiter 
— the  rehgious  ceremony  which  attended  the  annual 
revision  of  the  equestrian  lists.  Constantine  con- 
temptuously stayed  within  his  palace  on  the  day  and 
disdained  to  watch  the  Knights  ride  by.  His  absence 
was  made  the  pretext  for  some  street  rioting,  which, 
we  can  hardly  doubt,  had  been  carefully  engineered 
beforehand.  Rome,  still  overwhelmingly  pagan  in 
its  sympathies,  had  doubtless  heard  with  bitter  an- 
ger how  the  Emperor,  the  head  of  the  old  national 
religion,  had  been  taking  part  in  a  General  Council 
of  the  Christian  Church,  had  admitted  bishops  and 
confessors  to  the  intimacy  of  his  table,  and  had 
boldly  declared  himself  the  champion  of  Christianity. 
Constantine's  pointed  refusal  to  countenance  a  time- 
honoured  ceremony  which,  while  itself  of  no  extra- 
ordinary importance,  might  yet  be  taken  as  typical 
of  the  ancient  order  of  things,  would  easily  serve  as 
pretext  for  a  hostile  demonstration.  Demonstrations 
in  Rome  no  longer  menaced  the  throne  now  that  the 
barracks  of  the  Praetorians  were  empty,  but  the  in- 
cident would  serve  to  confirm  the  suspicions  already 
clouding  the  mind  of  the  Emperor. 

We  can  read  those  suspicions  most  plainly  in  an 
edict  which  he  had  issued  at  Nicomedia  a  few  months 


The  Murders  of  Crispus  and  Fausta  241 

before.  It  was  addressed  to  his  subjects  in  every 
province  (Ad  Universos  Provinciales),  and  in  it  the 
Emperor  invited  all  and  sundry  to  come  forward 
boldly  and  keep  him  well  informed  of  any  secret 
plotting  of  which  they  happened  to  be  cognisant. 
No  matter  how  lofty  the  station  of  the  conspirator 
might  be,  whether  governor  of  a  province,  ofificer  of 
the  army,  or  even  friend  and  associate  of  the  Em- 
peror, if  any  one  discovered  anything  he  was  to  tell 
what  he  knew,  and  the  Emperor  would  not  be  lack- 
ing either  in  gratitude  or  substantial  reward.  "  Let 
him  come  without  fear,"  ran  the  edict,  ''  and  let  him 
address  himself  to  me !  I  will  listen  to  all :  I  will 
myself  conduct  the  investigation*  :  and  if  the  accuser 
does  but  prove  his  charge,  I  will  vindicate  my  wrongs. 
Only  let  him  speak  boldly  and  be  sure  of  his  case ! " 
The  hand  which  wrote  this  was  the  hand  which 
had  flung  unread  into  the  brazier  at  Nicaea  the  in- 
criminating petitions  of  the  bishops.  What  had  taken 
place  in  the  interval  that  he  should  issue  an  edict 
worthy  of  a  Domitian .?  The  authorities  give  not  the 
slightest  hint.  Was  there  some  great  conspiracy 
afoot,  in  the  meshes  of  which  Constantine  feared  to 
become  entangled,  but  so  cunningly  contrived  that 
the  Emperor  could  only  be  sensible  of  its  existence, 
without  being  able  to  lay  hands  on  the  intriguers? 
Was  paganism  restless  in  the  East  as  we  have  seen  it 
restless  in  Rome,  at  the  triumph  of  its  once-despised 
and  always  detested  rival  ?  We  do  not  know.  Quite 
possibly  it  was,  though  with  the  downfall  of  Licinius 

*  hitrepidus    et   securus    accedat :    inierpellet   me.      Ipse  audiam 
ovinia,  ipse  cogjjoscam. 
i6 


242  Constantine 

its  prospects  seemed  hopeless.  Unless,  indeed,  there 
was  some  member  of  the  Imperial  Family  upon 
whom  paganism  rested  its  hopes  and  to  whom  it 
looked  as  its  future  deliverer !  Was  Crispus  such  a 
prince  ?  Again  we  do  not  know.  There  is  not  a 
scrap  of  evidence  to  bear  out  a  theory  which  has 
only  been  framed  as  a  possible  explanation  of  the 
dark  mystery  of  his  fate. 

Eutropius,  whose  character  sketches,  for  all  their 
brevity,  usually  tally  well  with  known  facts,  calls 
Crispus  a  prince  of  the  highest  merit  {virum  egre- 
giuni).  Why  then  did  Constantine  turn  against  him  ? 
We  may,  perhaps,  see  the  first  sign  of  the  changed 
relationship  in  the  fact  that  in  323  the  Csesarship  of 
Gaul  was  taken  from  Crispus  and  given  to  the  young 
Constantius,  then  a  child  of  seven.  So  far  as  is 
known,  no  compensating  title  or  command  was  of- 
fered in  exchange,  which  looks  as  though  Constantine 
was  disinclined  to  trust  his  eldest  son  any  longer 
and  preferred  to  keep  him  in  surveillance  by  his  side. 
The  father  may  have  been  jealous  of  the  prowess 
and  popularity  of  the  son ;  the  son  may  have  been 
ambitious,  as  Constantine  himself  had  been  in  his 
young  days,  and  have  deemed  that  his  services 
merited  elevation  to  the  rank  of  an  Augustus.  Ac- 
cording to  the  system  of  Diocletian,  twenty  years  of 
sovereignty  were  held  to  be  long  enough  for  the 
welfare  alike  of  sovereign  and  of  the  Empire.  Con- 
stantine's  term  was  running  out.  The  system  was 
not  yet  formally  abandoned ;  is  it  unreasonable  to 
suppose  that  Crispus  considered  he  had  claims  to 
rule,  or  that  Constantine,  resolved  to  keep  what  he 


The  Murders  of  Crispus  and  Fausta  243 

had  won,  became  estranged  from  one  whom  he  knew 
he  was  not  treating  with  generosity  or  with  justice? 
As  we  have  said,  there  is  no  evidence  of  any 
disloyalty  on  the  part  of  Crispus,  but  he  may  have 
let  incautious  expressions  fall  from  his  lips  which 
would  be  carried  to  the  ears  of  his  father,  and  he 
may  have  chafed  to  see  himself  supplanted  by  the 
young  princes,  his  half-brothers.  The  boy  Caesar, 
Constantius,  was  named  consul  with  his  father  for 
the  festival  year  326,  a  distinction  which  Crispus 
may  justly  have  thought  to  belong  by  right  to  him- 
self, and  he  may  have  seen  in  this  another  proof  of 
the  ill-will  of  the  Empress  Fausta,  and  of  her  influ- 
ence over  the  Emperor.  Possibly  Crispus  was 
goaded  by  anger  into  some  indiscreet  action,  which 
confirmed  Constantine's  suspicions ;  possibly  even 
he  committed  some  act  of  disobedience  which 
gave  Constantine  the  excuse  he  sought  for.  At 
any  rate,  in  the  July  or  August  of  326,  Crispus 
was  arrested  in  Rome  and  summarily  banished  to 
Pola  in  Istria.  Tidings  of  his  death  soon  followed. 
Whatever  the  manner  of  his  death,  whether  he 
was  beheaded  or  was  poisoned  or  committed 
suicide,  all  the  authorities  agree  that  he  came  to  a 
violent  end  and  that  the  responsibility  rests  upon 
his  father,  Constantine.  Nor  was  Crispus  the  only 
victim.  With  him  fell  Licinianus,  the  son  of  Licin- 
ius  and  Constantia.  He  was  a  promising  lad  {com- 
modes indolis,  says  Eutropius)  who  could  not  have 
been  more  than  twelve  years  of  age  and  could  not, 
therefore,  have  been  guilty  of  any  crime  or  intrigue 
against  his  uncle. 


244  Constantine 

One  cannot  pass  by  altogether  without  mention 
the  story  of  Zosimus  that  the  reason  of  Fausta's 
implacable  hatred  of  Crispus  was  not  ambition 
for  her  own  children,  but  a  still  more  ungovernable 
and  much  less  pardonable  passion.  Zosimur^  de- 
clares that  Fausta  was  enamoured  of  her  step-son, 
who  rejected  her  overtures,  and  so  fell  a  victim, 
like  another  Hippolytus,  to  the  vengeance  of  this 
Roman  Phaedra.  Most  modern  historians  have  re- 
jected the  story,  as  emanating  from  the  lively  imagina- 
tion of  a  Greek  at  a  loss  for  a  plausible  explanation 
of  a  mysterious  crime,  and  we  may,  with  tolerable  cer- 
tainty, acquit  Fausta  of  so  disgraceful  a  passion. 
If,  as  we  suppose,  she  was  the  untiring  enemy  of 
Crispus,  it  is  at  once  more  charitable  and  more 
probable  to  suppose  that  the  motive  of  her  hate 
was  her  fierce  ambition  for  her  own  sons.  For  the 
moment  the  Empress  conquered.  But  her  triumph 
did  not  last  long.  Eutropius  tells  us  that  soon 
afterwards — mox — a  vague  word  equally  applicable 
to  a  period  of  days,  weeks,  or  even  months — Fausta 
herself  was  put  to  death  by  Constantine.  What 
was  her  offence?  Philostorgius*  declares  that  she 
was  discovered  in  an  intrigue  with  a  groom  of  the 
stables — an  amour  worthy  of  Messalina  herself.  But 
the  story  stands  suspect,  especially  when  taken  in 
conjunction  with  the  legend  of  her  passion  for  Cris- 
pus. The  one  seems  invented  to  bolster  up  the 
other  and  add  to  its  verisimilitude.  The  truth  is 
that  nothing  is  known  for  certain ;  and  the  whole 
episode  was  probably  kept    as    a  profound  palace 


The  Murders  of  Crispus  and  Fausta  245 

secret.  One  circumstance,  however,  mentioned  by 
Aurelius  Victor  and  by  Zosimus,  merits  attention. 
Both  declare  that  the  Empress-mother,  Helena, 
was  furious  at  the  murder  of  Crispus.  Zosimus 
says  that  she  was  greatly  distressed  at  her  grand- 
son's suffering,  and  could  hardly  contain  herself  at 
the  news  of  his  death  {dax^too?  rrjv  avaipsffiv  tov 
veov  qispovffi^?).  Aurelius  Victor  adds  that  the 
aged  Empress  bitterly  reproached  her  son  for  his 
cruelty  {Cmn  emn  mater  Helena  nimio  dolore  nepotis 
increparef).  Evidently,  Helena  favoured  Crispus, 
the  son  of  Minervina — who,  like  herself,  had  been 
forced  by  the  exigencies  of  State  to  quit  her  hus- 
band's house,  and  make  room  for  an  Emperor's 
daughter, — in  preference  to  the  children  of  Constan- 
tine  and  Fausta;  evidently  therefore,  Helena  and 
Fausta  were  rival  influences  at  court,  each  striving 
for  ascendency.  If  Crispus's  death  betokened  that 
Fausta  had  gained  the  upper  hand,  the  death  of 
Fausta  shewed  that  Helena  had  succeeded  in  turning 
the  tables.  When  Helena  violently  reproached  her 
son  for  slaying  Crispus,  we  may  be  sure  that  she  was 
aiming  her  shafts  through  Constantine  at  Fausta,  and 
that  when  she  succeeded  in  rousing  the  Emperor 
to  remorse  she  succeeded  also  in  kindling  his  re- 
sentment against  his  wife.  It  is  said  that  Fausta 
was  suffocated  in  a  hot  bath,  but  every  detail  is 
open  to  challenge.  Eusebius  passes  over  the  entire 
episode  without  a  word.  He  is  not  only  silent  as 
to  the  death  of  Fausta  but  also  as  to  the  death  of 
Crispus,  The  courtly  Bishop  refuses  to  turn  even 
a  single  look  towards  the  crime-stained  Palatine,  on 


246  Constantine 

whose  gates  some  lampoon  writer  had  set  a  paper 
with  the  bitter  epigram  : 

Saturni  aurea  scecula  quis  requiret  ? 
Sunt  hcBC  gemtnea,  sed  Neroniana. 

(  "  Who  will  care  to  seek  the  golden  age  of  Saturn  ? 
Ours  is  the  age  of  jewels,  but  jewels  of  Nero's 
setting.")  If  Constantine,  like  Saturn,  had  devoured 
his  children  and  had  lapsed  for  the  moment  into  a 
savage  tyrant  of  Nero's  pattern,  it  was  not  for 
Eusebius  to  judge  him.  He  was  writing  for  edifi- 
cation. Constantine  had  averred  his  willingness 
to  cast  his  cloak  over  a  sinning  bishop  lest  scandal 
should  arise ;  ought  not  an  ecclesiastical  historian 
to  cast  the  cloak  of  charitable  silence  over  the 
crimes  of  a  most  Christian  Emperor?  When,  there- 
fore, Eusebius  describes*  how,  after  the  death  of 
Licinius,  men  cast  aside  all  their  former  fears,  and 
dared  to  raise  their  long-downcast  eyes  and  look 
up  with  a  smile  on  their  faces  and  brightness  in 
their  glance ;  how  they  honoured  the  Emperor  in 
all  the  beauty  of  victory  and  "  his  most  orderly 
sons  and  Heaven-beloved  Caesars";  and  how  they 
straightway  forgot  their  old  troubles  and  all  un- 
righteousness, and  gave  themselves  up  to  an  en- 
joyment of  their  present  good  things  and  their 
hope  of  others  to  come;  it  is  a  healthy  corrective 
to  recall  the  murderous  outbreak  of  ungovernable 
wrath  which  made  Rome  shudder  as  it  listened  to 
the  whispered  tale  of  what  was  taking  place  in  the 
recesses  of  the  Palatine.     The  entire  subject  is  one 

*De  Vita  Const.,  ii.,  p.  19. 


The  Murders  of  Crispus  and  Fausta  247 

on  which  it  is  as  fascinating  as  it  is  easy  to  speculate. 
On  the  whole,  it  seems  most  likely  that  Constan- 
tine's  fears  had  been  worked  upon  to  such  an  extent 
that  he  believed  himself  surrounded  by  traitors  in 
his  own  family,  that  the  Empress  Fausta  had  been 
the  leading  spirit  in  the  plot  to  ruin  Crispus,  and 
that  when  the  Emperor  discovered  his  mistake  he 
turned  in  fury  upon  his  wife.  It  may  be,  as  Eu- 
tropius  suggests,  that  his  mental  balance  had  been 
upset  by  his  extraordinary  success,  that  his  pro- 
sperity and  the  adulation  of  the  world  had  been  too 
much  for  him.*  That  is  a  charitable  theory  which,  in 
default  of  a  better,  we,  too,  may  as  well  adopt. 

We  need  not  doubt  the  sincerity  of  his  repent- 
ance. Zosimus  depicts  the  Emperor  remorsefully 
begging  the  priests  of  the  old  religion  to  purify 
him  from  his  crime,  and  says  that  when  they  sternly 
refused,  Constantine  turned  to  accept  the  sooth- 
ing offices  of  a  wandering  Egyptian  from  Spain. 
Another  account,  current  among  pagans,  was  that 
he  applied  for  comfort  to  the  philosopher,  Sopater, 
who  would  have  nothing  to  say  to  so  heinous  a 
sinner,  and  that  he  then  fell  in  with  certain  Christ- 
ian bishops,  who  promised  him  full  forgiveness  at 
the  price  of  repentance  and  baptism.  The  motive 
of  these  legends  is  as  obvious  as  their  falsity.  The 
pagans,  in  defiance  of  chronology,  sought  to  explain 
the  Emperor's  conversion  to  Christianity  as  a  result 
of  the  murders  that  lay  heavy  upon  his  soul,  murders 
so  revolting  as  only  to  admit  of  pardon  in  the  eyes 

*  Verum  insoleutia  rerum  secundarum  aliquantutn  Constantinus 
ex  ilia  favor abili  aniini  docilitate  niiitavit  (x.,  p.  6). 


248  Constantine 

of  Christians.  Among  the  late  legends  of  the  By- 
zantine writer  Codinus,  we  find  the  story  that  Con- 
stantine raised  to  the  memory  of  Crispus  a  golden 
statue,  which  bore  the  inscription,  "To  the  son 
whom  I  unjustly  condemned,"  and  that  he  fasted 
and  refused  the  comforts  of  life  for  forty  days.  Of 
even  greater  interest  is  the  legend  that  Constan- 
tine was  baptised  by  Sylvester,  the  Bishop  of  Rome, 
and,  in  gratitude  for  the  promise  of  pardon,  be- 
stowed upon  the  see  of  Rome  the  damnosa  hcBredi- 
tas  of  the  Temporal  Power. 

There  is  no  necessity  to  discuss  at  length  the 
once  famous,  but  now  simply  notorious,  Donation 
of  Constantine.  The  legend  is  so  grotesque  that 
one  wonders  it  ever  imposed  on  the  credulity  even 
of  the  most  ignorant.  For  it  represented  Constan- 
tine as  being  smitten  with  leprosy  for  having  perse- 
cuted the  Church  and  for  having  driven  the  good 
Pope  Sylvester  into  exile.  The  Emperor  consulted 
soothsayers,  priests,  and  physicians  in  turn,  and  was 
at  last  informed  that  his  only  chance  of  cure  lay  in 
bathing  in  the  blood  of  little  children.  Forthwith,  a 
number  of  children  were  collected  for  this  dreadful 
purpose,  but  their  cries  awoke  the  pity  of  Constan- 
tine and  he  gave  them  respite.  Then,  as  he  slept, 
Peter  and  Paul  appeared  to  him  in  a  dream  and 
bade  him  let  the  children  go  free,  recall  Sylvester 
from  exile,  and  submit  at  his  hands  to  the  rite  of 
baptism.  This  was  done ;  the  baptism  was  admin- 
istered ;  Constantine  was  cured  of  the  leprosy,  and 
in  return  he  made  over  to  Sylvester  and  his  succes- 
sors full  temporal  dominion  over  the  city  of  Rome, 


The  Murders  of  Crispus  and  Fausta  249 

the  greater  part  of  Italy,  and  certain  other  provinces. 
Such  is  the  story,  which  was  long  accepted  without 
demur  and  confidently  appealed  to  as  the  origin  of 
the  Temporal  Power.  It  is  now  universally  ad- 
mitted that  the  whole  legend  is  a  fraud  and  the 
letter  of  Constantine  to  Sylvester  announcing  the 
Donation  a  forgery  of  the  eighth  century.  Con- 
stantine never  persecuted  the  Church;  he  never  had 
leprosy ;  he  never  contemplated  bathing  in  infants' 
blood  ;  he  did  not  receive  the  rite  of  baptism  until 
he  was  on  his  death-bed,  and  he  did  not  hand  over 
to  the  Pope  the  fee  simple  and  title  deeds  of  Rome 
and  Italy.  The  Donation  of  Constantine  belongs  to 
the  museum  of  historical  forgeries.* 

But  if  the  repentance  of  Constantine  did  not  take 
the  form  of  stupendous  endowments  for  the  Bishop 
of  Rome,  we  may  be  tolerably  sure  that  it  did  man- 
ifest itself  in  the  increased  zeal  of  the  Emperor  for 
the  building  of  churches,  and  especially  in  his  mu- 
nificence to  the  Christians  of  Rome.  It  is  tempting, 
also,  to  connect  with  Constantine's  remorse  and  his 
mother's  sorrow  for  the  murder  of  her  grandson  the 
pilgrimage  of  Helena  to  Palestine  and  Jerusalem, 
which  followed  almost  immediately.     Around  that 

*  We  may  quote  the  most  striking  sentence  in  the  document  : 
Ecce  tarn  palatium  nostrum  quam  urbem  Romatn,  et  omnes  totius 
Italia  et  occidentalium  ycgionum  provincias,  loca  et  civitates ,  prtzfato 
beatissimo  Poiitifici  ttostya  Sylvestro,  universali  papa,  concedunus 
alque  relinquimtis.  The  forger  forged  boldly,  and  then  went  on  to 
add  that  Constantine  withdrew  to  Constantinople,  because  it  was  not 
just  that  an  earthly  monarch  (terrenus  itnperator)  should  exercise 
sovereignty  in  the  city  where  the  Head  of  the  Christian  religion  had 
been  installed  by  the  Lord  of  Heaven  {ab  iinperatore  ccelesti). 


250  Constantine 

visit  there  clustered  many  legends  which,  as  time 
went  on,  multiplied  amazingly.  Of  these  the  most 
famous  is  that  which  is  known  as  the  Invention  of  the 
Cross.  This,  in  its  fullest  form  many  centuries  after 
the  event,  ran  something  as  follows :  When  Hel- 
ena reached  Jerusalem  she  asked  to  be  shown  the 
Holy  Sepulchre.  But  no  one  could  tell  her  where 
the  exact  spot  was.  Buildings  had  been  erected 
upon  Mount  Calvary  and  the  adjoining  land ;  a 
temple  of  Venus  was  still  standing  near  the  place 
where  the  body  of  Christ  must  have  been  laid. 
Helena  instituted  a  careful  search,  and  the  authority 
of  the  Emperor's  mother  would  be  warrant  sufificient 
for  the  disturbance  of  the  occupiers.  At  first  their 
toil  met  with  no  success.  Then  a  very  clever  Jew 
came  forward  with  a  story  that  he  had  heard  of  an 
old  tradition  that  the  site  of  the  Sepulchre  lay 
in  such  and  such  a  spot ;  the  direction  of  the  exca- 
vation was  entrusted  to  him  ;  and  the  searchers  were 
soon  rewarded  by  finding  not  only  the  cave  where 
Christ  had  lain,  but  also  three  crosses.  These,  it 
was  at  once  determined,  must  have  been  the  crosses 
on  which  Christ  and  the  two  malefactors  had  suf- 
fered. But  which  had  borne  the  Saviour?  There 
was  nothing  to  show,  but  so  sacred  an  object  was 
sure  to  be  invested  with  wonder-working  powers, 
and  the  test  was,  therefore,  easy.  So  they  brought 
to  the  spot  a  dying  woman — according  to  one  ver- 
sion, she  was  already  dead — and  touched  her  with 
the  wood  of  the  three  crosses.  At  contact  with  the 
first  two  no  change  was  visible ;  but  the  touch  of  the 
third  recalled  her  to  sensibility  and  perfect  health, 


ST.   HELENA'S  VISION   OF  THE  CROSS. 

BY  CALIARI   (pAOLO  VERONESE). 
NATIONAL  GALLERY.    LONDON. 


The  Murders  of  Crispus  and  Fausta  251 

and  the  true  Cross  stood  at  once  revealed  to  the 
adoring  worship  of  all  believers.  In  the  wood  were 
two  nails.  Helena  had  them  carefully  sent  to  Con- 
stantine,  and  he,  we  are  told,  had  one  of  them  in- 
serted— as  something  far  more  precious  than  rubies 
— in  the  Imperial  crown,  while  from  the  other  he 
fashioned  a  bit  for  his  horse. 

Such  is  the  legend  in  its  most  complete  form.  It 
directly  associates  the  finding  of  the  Cross  with 
Helena's  visit  to  Jerusalem,  and  attributes  also  to 
her  the  magnificent  church  which  was  raised  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  reign  of  Constantine  on  the  site 
of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  But  it  must  also  be  added 
that  the  first  historical  mention  of  the  "  Invention  " 
is  seventy  years  after  the  discovery  was  supposed 
to  have  taken  place.  Eusebius,  in  describing  Hel- 
ena's pilgrimage,*  knows  nothing  of  the  finding  of 
the  Cross,  and,  while  he  speaks  of  the  discovery 
of  the  Sepulchre,  he  does  not  associate  it  with  Hel- 
ena, though  he  attributes  to  her  piety  the  new 
church  at  Bethlehem.  It  was  Constantine,  according 
to  Eusebius,  who  built  the  church  on  the  site  of  the 
Holy  Sepulchre,  and  beautified  the  cave  of  Bethle- 
hem and  the  site  of  the  Ascension,  but  of  the  finding 
of  the  Cross  there  is  not  a  word — a  significant  silence, 
which  can  only  mean  that  the  legend  was  not  yet 
current  when  Eusebius  composed  his  "Life"  of 
Constantine.  What  cannot  well  be  doubted  is  that 
the  site  of  the  Sepulchre  was  discovered  and  cleared 
in  Constantine's  reign.  The  Emperor  built  upon 
it  one  of  his  finest  churches,  but  popular  tradition, 

*  De  Vita  Const.,  iii.,  p.  44,  seq. 


252  Constantine 

with  a  sure  eye  for  the  romantic  and  the  extra- 
ordinary, preferred  to  attribute  the  origin  of  the 
noblest  shrine  in  Palestine  to  the  pious  enthusiasm 
of  the  aged  Helena.  Her  pilgrimage  over,  Helena 
died  not  long  afterwards,  and  was  buried  by  Con- 
stantine with  full  military  honours  "  in  the  royal 
tombs  of  the  reigning  city."  The  phrase  points 
clearly  to  Constantinople  as  the  place  of  burial, 
though  Rome  also  claims  this  honour. 

History  is  silent  as  to  the  events  of  the  next  few 
years.  But  as  the  Empire  had  been  free  both  from 
civil  and  foreign  war  since  the  downfall  of  Licinius, 
we  may  accept  the  general  statement  of  Eusebius 
"  that  all  men  enjoyed  quiet  and  untroubled  days."  * 
Peace  was  always  the  greatest  interest  of  the  Roman 
Empire,  but  it  was  rarely  of  long  continuance,  and 
in  330  and  the  two  following  years  we  find  the  Em- 
peror campaigning  in  person  against  the  Goths  and 
the  Sarmatse.  The  account  of  these  wars  in  the 
authorities  of  the  period  is  so  confused  and  contra- 
dictory that  it  is  impossible  to  obtain  a  connected 
narrative. 

It  was  the  old  familiar  story  over  again.  The 
barbarians  had  come  raiding  over  the  borders. 
There  seems  to  have  been  fighting  along  the  entire 
north-eastern  frontier,  from  the  great  bend  of  the 
Danube  to  the  Tauric  Chersonese.  Constantine  and 
the  legions  drove  the  enemy  back,  won  victories 
chequered  by  minor  reverses,  and  finally  the  Em- 
peror was  glad  enough  in  332  to  come  to  terms  with 
the  chiefs  of  the  Gothic  nation.     Mention  is  made 


De  I  'ita  Const. ,  iv. ,  c.  14. 


The  Murders  of  Crispus  and  Fausta  253 

of  a  handsome  subsidy  paid  by  Constantine  to 
the  Gothic  kings,  which  certainly  does  not  suggest 
the  overwhelming  triumph  of  the  Roman  arms  of 
which  Eusebius  speaks  when  he  says  that  the  Em- 
peror was  the  first  to  bring  them  under  the  yoke 
and  taught  them  to  acknowledge  the  Romans  as  their 
masters.*  As  for  the  Sarmatse,  Eusebius  declares  f 
that  they  had  been  obliged  to  arm  their  slaves  for 
their  assistance  against  the  attacks  of  the  Scythians, 
that  the  slaves  had  revolted  against  their  old  mas- 
ters, and  that  in  despair  the  Sarmatae  turned  to 
Constantine  and  asked  for  shelter  on  Roman  terri- 
tory.  Some  of  them,  says  Eusebius,  were  received 
into  the  legions;  others  were  distributed  as  farmers 
and  tillers  of  the  soil  throughout  the  frontier  pro- 
vinces;  and  all,  he  declares,  confessed  that  their 
misfortunes  had  really  been  a  blessing  in  disguise, 
inasmuch  as  it  had  enabled  them  to  exchange  their 
old  state  of  barbarian  savagery  for  the  Roman  free- 
dom. Probably  we  shall  not  be  far  wrong  if  we 
place  a  different  interpretation  on  the  words  of  Euse- 
bius, and  see  in  the  transference  of  these  Sarmatians 
to  the  Roman  provinces  a  confession  of  weakness 
on  the  part  of  Constantine.  They  were  not  captives 
of  war.  They  were  rather  invited  over  the  borders 
to  keep  their  kinsmen  out,  and  the  Roman  Emperor 
paid  for  his  new  subjects  in  the  shape  of  a  handsome 
subsidy.  There  can  be  no  other  meaning  of  the  curi- 
ous words  of  Eutropius  that  Constantine  left  behind 
him  a  tremendous   reputation  for  generosity  with 


*  De  Vita  Const.,  iv.,  p.  5. 
f  Ibid.^  iv.,  p.  6, 


254  Constantine 

the  barbaric  nations  {Ingentemqite  apud  Barbaras 
gentes  memorice  gratiam  collocavit. — x.,  7).  Money- 
was  not  so  plentiful  in  Constantine's  exchequer  that 
he  gave  subsidies  for  nothing.  The  suggestion  is 
not  that  he  suffered  defeat  and  bought  off  hostility; 
it  is  rather  that  he  thought  it  worth  while,  after 
vindicating  the  honour  of  the  Roman  arms,  to  pay 
for  the  friendship  of  the  vanquished. 

On  the  Eastern  frontier  peace  had  remained  un- 
broken throughout  Constantine's  long  reign.  Persia 
had  been  so  shattered  by  Galerius  that  King  Narses 
made  no  attempt  to  renounce  the  humiliating  treaty 
which  had  been  imposed  upon  him.  His  son,  Hor- 
misdas,  had  likewise  acquiesced  in  the  loss  of  Ar- 
menia and  what  were  known  as  the  five  provinces 
beyond  the  Tigris,  and  when  Hormisdas  died,  leav- 
ing a  son  still  unborn,  there  was  a  long  regency  dur- 
ing which  no  aggressive  movement  was  made  from 
the  Persian  side.  However,  this  son,  Sapor,  proved 
to  be  a  high-spirited,  patriotic,  and  capable  monarch, 
who  was  determined  to  uphold  and  assert  the  rights 
of  Persia.  It  is  not  known  how  the  peaceful  relation- 
ship, which  had  so  long  subsisted  between  his  coun- 
try and  Rome,  came  to  be  broken.  According  to 
Eusebius,*  Sapor  sent  an  embassy  to  the  Emperor, 
which  was  received  with  the  utmost  cordiality,  and 
Constantine,  we  are  told,  took  the  opportunity  of 
sending  back  by  these  same  envoys  a  letter  com- 
mending to  his  favourable  regard  the  Christians  of 
Persia.  The  document  contained  a  very  tedious 
and  involved  confession  of  faith  by  the  Emperor, 

*  De  Vita  Const.,  iv.,  p.  8, 


The  Murders  of  Crispus  and  Fausta  255 

who  affirmed  his  devotion  to  God  and  declared  his 
horror  at  the  sight  and  smell  of  the  blood  of  sac- 
rifice. "  The  God  I  serve,"  said  Constantine,  "  de- 
mands from  His  worshippers  nothing  but  a  pure 
mind  and  a  spirit  undefiled."  Then  he  reminded 
Sapor  how  the  persecutors  of  the  Church  had  been 
destroyed  root  and  branch,  and  how  one  of  them, 
Valerian,  had  graced  the  triumph  of  a  Persian  king. 
He,  therefore,  confidently  committed  the  Christians, 
who  "  honoured  by  their  presence  some  of  the  fairest 
regions  of  Persia,"  to  the  generosity  and  protection 
of  their  sovereign. 

This  remarkable  letter  suggests  that  Sapor  had 
been  alarmed  at  the  growth  of  Christianity  in  his 
dominions,  and  by  no  means  looked  upon  his  Christ- 
ian subjects  as  lending  lustre  and  distinction  to  his 
realm.  Whether  he  replied  to  what  he  may  well 
have  regarded  as  a  veiled  threat,  we  do  not  know, 
but  in  335  we  hear  of  what  Eusebius  calls  "  an  insur- 
rection of  barbarians  in  the  East,"*  and  Constan- 
tine prepared  for  war  against  Persia.  In  other  words, 
Sapor  had  fomented  an  insurrection  in  the  provinces 
beyond  the  Tigris  and  was  claiming  his  lost  heritage. 
Constantine  laid  his  military  plans  before  the  bishops 
of  his  court.  These  declared  their  intention  of  accom- 
panying him  into  the  field,  to  the  great  delight,  we 
are  assured,  of  the  Emperor,  who  ordered  a  tent  to 
be  made  for  his  service  in  the  shape  of  a  church, 
while  Sapor,  in  alarm,  sent  envoys  to  sue  for  a  peace 
which  the  most  peaceful-minded  of  kings  {iipriviKco- 
raro^  ^affiXev?)  was  only  too  ready  to  grant.     Such 

*  De  Vita  Const.,  iv.,  p.  56. 


256 


Constantine 


is  the  story  of  Eusebius,  but  it  is  evident  that  the 
Eastern  legions  had  been  carefully  mobilised,  and, 
whether  such  a  peace  was  granted  or  not,  the  death 
of  Constantine  in  337  was  the  signal  for  a  renewal  of 
the  old  conflict  between  the  two  great  empires  of 
the  world,  and  for  a  war  which  lasted  without  inter- 
mission through  the  reigns  of  Constantine's  sons 
and  that  of  his  nephew  Julian. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

THE   FOUNDATION   OF  CONSTANTINOPLE 

WE  come  now  to  the  greatest  political  achieve- 
ment of  Constantine's  reign — the  foundation 
of  a  new  Rome.  Let  us  ask  at  the  outset  what 
led  him  to  take  a  step  so  decisive  as  the  trans- 
ference of  the  world's  metropolis  from  the  Italian 
peninsula  to  the  borders  of  Europe  and  Asia.  The 
assignation  of  merely  personal  motives  will  not  suf- 
fice. We  are  told  by  Zosimus  that  Rome  was  dis- 
tasteful to  Constantine,  because  it  reminded  him  of 
the  son  and  the  wife  who  had  fallen  victims  to  his 
savage  resentment.  He  was  uneasy  in  the  palace  on 
the  Palatine,  whose  very  stones  suggested  murder 
and  sudden  death,  and  whose  walls  were  cognisant 
of  unnumbered  treasons.  What  Zosimus  says  may 
very  well  be  true.  Constantine's  conscience  was 
likely  to  give  him  less  peace  in  Rome  than  elsewhere. 
But  the  personal  wishes  of  even  the  greatest  men 
cannot  bind  the  generations  which  come  after  them. 
There  have  been  cities  founded  by  the  caprice  of 
royal  tyrants  which  have  flourished  for  a  season  and 
then  vanished.  Seleucia  is  perhaps  the  most  striking 
example,  and  scarcely  a  mound  remains  to  mark  its 
257 


258  Constantine 

site.  But  most  of  the  historic  cities  of  the  world  owe 
their  greatness  and  their  permanence  not  to  the 
whims  of  royal  founders,  but  to  geographical  and 
strategic  position.  Rome  was  not  uncrowned  by 
Constantine  because  he  could  not  forget  within  its 
walls  the  crimes  which  had  stained  his  hands  with 
blood. 

It  is  also  to  be  remembered  that  others  had  already 
set  the  example  of  despoiling  of  her  dignities  the 
ancient  Queen  of  the  Nations.  We  have  seen  how  in 
the  western  half  of  the  Empire  great  Imperial  cities 
had  been  rising  within  easy  reach  of  the  frontiers.  In 
far-off  Britain  London  might  be  the  most  opulent 
city,  but  York  was  the  chief  residence  of  the  Caesar 
of  the  West  when  he  visited  the  island.  In  Gaul 
Treves  had  outstripped  Lyons  in  dignity  and  wealth, 
and  was  now  the  centre  of  military  and  administrative 
power.  Even  in  Italy  Milan  had  grown  at  the  ex- 
pense of  Rome;  it  was  nearer  to  the  frontier  and, 
therefore,  nearer  to  the  armies.  Rome  lay  out  of  the 
way.  Diocletian,  again,  had  favoured  Nicomedia  in 
Bithynia.  In  other  words,  Rome  was  ceasing  to  be 
the  one  centre  of  gravity  of  the  ancient  world,  or,  to 
express  the  same  truth  in  another  form,  the  Roman 
world  was  ceasing  to  be  one.  Diocletian  had  prac- 
tically acknowledged  this  when  he  founded  his  sys- 
tem of  Augusti  an'd  Caesars.  With  the  subdivision 
of  adrninistrative  and  executive  power  there  natur- 
ally ceases  to  be  one  supreme  metropolis.  It  would 
be  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  Constantine,  in  founding 
a  new  Rome,  deliberately  hastened  the  rapid  tendency 
towards  separation.     The  very  name  of "  New  Rome" 


THE  GOLDEN  HORN. 


U^ 


^0 


Tl*  ^ 


THE  MARMORA. 


CHART  OF  THE  EASTERN  SECTION  OF   MEDI/EVAL  CONSTANTINOPLE. 

FROM  GROSVENOR'S  "CONSTANTINOPLE." 


i 


The  Foundation  of  Constantinople  259 

which  he  gave  his  city  indicates  his  bcHef  that  he 
was  merely  moving  Rome  from  the  Tiber  to  the 
Bosphorus — merely  changing  to  a  more  convenient 
site.  But  the  fact  that  this  name  dropped  out  of  use 
almost  at  once,  and  that  the  city  was  called  after 
him,  not  in  Latin  but  in  Greek,  shews  how  strongly 
the  current  was  flowing  towards  political  division. 

But  what  attracted  Constantine  towards  Byzan- 
tium? Precisely,  of  course,  those  advantages  of 
situation  which  have  attracted  modern  statesmen. 
Every  one  knows  the  story  of  how,  after  the  Peace  of 
Tilsit,  the  Tsar  Alexander  constantly  pressed  Napo- 
leon to  allow  him  to  take  Constantinople.  Napoleon 
at  length  told  his  secretary,  M.  de  Meneval,  to  bring 
him  the  largest  map  of  Europe  which  he  could  pro- 
cure, and, after  poring  over  it  for  some  time,he  looked 
up  and  exclaimed,  "  Constantinople  !  Never  !  It  is 
the  Empire  of  the  world."  Was  Napoleon  right? 
The  publicists  of  to-day  return  different  answers. 
The  Mediterranean  is  not  the  all-important  sea  it 
once  was,  and  the  strategical  importance  of  Constan- 
tinople has  been  greatly  modified  by  the  Suez  Canal 
and  the  British  occupation  of  Egypt.  But  if  Napo- 
leon's exclamation  seems  rather  theatrical  to  us,  it 
would  not  have  seemed  so  to  Constantine,  whose 
world  was  so  much  smaller  than  ours  and  presented 
such  different  strategical  problems  calling  for  solution. 
Constantine  had  won  the  world  when  he  defeated 
Licinius  and  captured  Byzantium:  he  determined  to 
keep  it  where  he  had  won  it. 

It  is  said  by  some  of  the  late  historians  that  he  was 
long  in  coming  to  a  decision^  and  that  he  carefully 


26o  Constantine 

weighed  the  rival  claims  of  other  cities.  There  was  \ 
his  birthplace,  Naissus,  in  Pannonia,  though  we  can-  \ 
not  suppose  that  Constantine  seriously  thought  of 
making  this  his  metropolis.  There  was  Sardica  on  the 
Danube,  the  modern  Belgrade  and  capital  of  Servia, 
a  city  well  adapted  by  its  position  for  playing  an  im- 
portant role  in  history,  and  conveniently  near  the 
most  dangerous  frontier  of  the  Empire.  "  My  Rome 
is  at  Sardica,"  Constantine  was  fond  of  declaring  at 
one  period  of  his  career,  according  to  a  tradition 
which  was  perpetuated  by  the  Byzantine  historians. 
Another  possible  choice  was  Nicomedia,  which  had 
commended  itself  to  Diocletian,  and,  finally,  there 
was  Salonica,  which  even  now  has  only  to  fall  into 
capable  hands  to  become  one  of  the  most  prosper- 
ous cities  of  eastern  Europe. 

According  to  Zosimus,  even  when  Constantine 
had  determined  to  found  his  new  city  at  the  point 
where  Europe  and  Asia  are  divided  by  the  narrow 
straits,  he  selected  first  the  Asiatic  side.  The  his- 
torian says  that  he  actually  began  to  build  and  that 
the  foundations  of  the  abandoned  city  were  still  to 
be  seen  in  his  day  between  Troy  and  Pergamum. 
But  the  story  is  more  than  doubtful.  Legend  has 
naturally  been  busy  with  the  circumstances  attend- 
ing the  Emperor's  final  choice  of  Byzantium.  Was 
it  inspired,  as  some  say,  by  the  flight  of  an  eagle 
from  Chrysopolis  towards  Byzantium  ?  Or,  while 
Constantine  slept  in  Byzantium,  did  the  aged  tutelar 
genius  of  the  place  appear  to  him  in  a  dream  and 
then  become  transformed  into  a  beautiful  maiden, 
to  whom  he  offered  the  insignia  of  royalty  ?     Inter- 


The  Foundation  of  Constantinople  261 

esting  as  these  legends  are,  we  need  seek  no  further 
explanation  of  Constantine's  choice  than  his  own 
good  judgment  and  experience.  He  was  fully  aware 
of  the  extraordinary  natural  strength  of  Byzantium, 
for  his  armies  had  found  great  difificulty  in  taking  it 
by  assault ;  the  supreme  beauty  of  the  site  and  its 
many  other  qualifications  for  becoming  a  great  capi- 
tal were  manifest  to  his  eyes  every  time  he  ap- 
proached it.  Byzantium  had  long  been  one  of  the 
most  renowned  cities  of  antiquity.  Even  in  the  re- 
motest times  the  imagination  of  the  Greeks  had 
been  powerfully  affected  by  the  stormy  Euxine  that 
lay  in  what  was  to  them  the  far  north-east,  guarding 
the  Golden  Fleece  and  the  Apples  of  the  Hesperidae, 
a  wild  region  of  big  rivers,  savage  lands,  and  boister- 
ous seas.  Daring  seamen  of  Megara,  in  the  seventh 
century  B.C.,  had  effected  a  landing  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Bosphorus,  where  lo  had  fled  across  from  Europe 
to  Asia,  turning  their  galleys  up  the  smooth  estuary 
that  still  bears  its  ancient  name  of  the  Golden  Horn. 
Apollo  had  told  them  to  fix  their  habitation  "  over 
against  the  city  of  the  blind,"  and  this  they  had 
rightly  judged  could  be  no  other  than  Chalcedon, 
for  men  must  needs  have  been  blind  to  choose  the 
Asiatic  in  preference  to  the  European  shore. 

The  little  colony  founded  by  Byzas,  the  Megarian, 
had  prospered  marvellously,  though  it  had  experi- 
enced to  the  full  all  the  vicissitudes  of  fortune.  It 
had  fallen  before  the  Persian  King  Darius ;  it  had 
been  wrested  from  him  after  a  long  siege  by  Pau- 
sanias,  the  "hero  of  Plataea,  when  the  Greeks  rolled 
back  the  tide  of  invasion.     In  turn  the  subject  and 


262  Constantine 

successful  rival  of  Athens,  Byzantium  gained  new- 
glory  by  withstanding  for  two  years  the  assaults  of 
Philip  of  Macedon.  Thanks  to  the  eloquence  of  De- 
mosthenes, Athens  sent  help  in  the  shape  of  ships 
and  men,  and,  in  commemoration  of  a  night  attack 
of  the  Macedonians  successfully  foiled  by  the  oppor- 
tune rising  of  the  moon,  Byzantium  placed  upon 
her  coins  the  crescent  and  the  star,  which  for  four 
centuries  and  a  half  have  been  the  familiar  symbols 
of  Turkish  sovereignty.  Byzantium  grew  rich  on 
commerce.  It  was  the  port  of  call  at  which  every 
ship  entering  or  leaving  the  Bosphorus  was  bound  to 
touch ;  no  craft  sailed  the  Euxine  without  paying 
dues  to  the  city  at  its  mouth.  Polybius,  in  a  very 
interesting  passage,'^  points  out  how  Byzantium  oc- 
cupied "  the  most  secure  and  advantageous  position 
of  any  city  in  our  quarter  of  the  world,  as  far  as  the 
sea  is  concerned."     Then  he  continues  : 

"  The  Pontus,  therefore,  being  rich  in  what  the  rest  of 
the  world  requires  to  support  life,  the  Byzantines  are 
absolute  masters  in  this  respect.  For  the  first  necessaries 
of  existence,  cattle  and  slaves,  are  admittedly  supplied 
by  the  region  of  the  Pontus  in  better  quality  and  greater 
profusion  than  elsewhere.  In  the  matter  of  luxuries, 
they  supply  us  with  honey,  wax,  and  salt  fish,  while  they 
take  our  superfluous  olive  oil  and  wines." 

It  was  Byzantium,  therefore,  which  kept  open  the 
straits,  and  Polybius  speaks  of  the  city  as  a  common 
benefactor  of  the  Greeks.  When  the  Romans  began 
to  appear  on  the  scene  as  a  world-power,  Byzantium 

*Bk.  IV.,  c.  38,  seq. 


The  Foundation  of  Constantinople  263 

made  terms  with  the  Senate.  It  well  suited  the 
Roman  policy  to  have  a  powerful  ally  on  the  Bos- 
phorus,  strong  in  the  ships  in  which  Rome  was 
usually  deficient.  As  a  libera  et  feeder ata  civitas,  By- 
zantium enjoyed  a  more  or  less  prosperous  history 
until  the  days  of  Vespasian,  who  stripped  it  of  its 
privileges.  These  were  restored,  but  a  shattering 
blow  overtook  the  city  at  the  close  of  the  second 
century,  when  Septimus  Severus  took  it  by  storm. 
Angry  at  its  long  resistance,  Severus  levelled  its 
fortifications  to  the  ground, — a  work  of  endless  toil, 
for  the  stones  and  blocks  had  been  so  clamped  to- 
gether that  the  walls  were  one  solid  mass.  How- 
ever, before  he  died,  he  repented  him  of  the  destruc- 
tion which  he  had  wrought  and  gave  orders  for  the 
walls  to  be  built  anew.  It  was  the  Byzantium  as 
rebuilt  by  Severus  that  Constantine  determined  to 
refound  on  a  far  more  splendid  scale. 

No  subsequent  historian  has  improved  upon  the 
glowing  passage  in  which  Gibbon  summarises  the 
incomparable  advantages  of  its  site,  which  appears, 
as  he  well  says,  to  have  been  "  founded  by  Nature 
for  the  centre  and  capital  of  a  great  monarchy." 
We  may  quote  the  passage  in  full  from  his  seven- 
teenth chapter: 

"  Situated  in  the  forty-first  degree  of  latitude — prac- 
tically the  same,  it  may  be  noted,  as  that  of  Rome,  Mad- 
rid, and  New  York — the  imperial  city  commanded  from 
her  seven  hills  the  opposite  shores  of  Europe  and  Asia; 
the  climate  was  healthy  and  temperate;  the  soil  fertile; 
the  harbour  secure  and  capacious;  and  the  approach 
on  the  side  of  the  continent  was  of  small  extent  and  easy 


264  Constantine 

of  defence.  The  Bosphorus  and  Hellespont  may  be  con- 
sidered as  the  two  gates  of  Constantinople;  and  the  prince 
who  procured  those  important  passages  could  always 
shut  them  against  a  naval  enemy  and  open  them  to  the 
fleets  of  commerce.  The  preservation  of  the  Eastern 
provinces  may,  in  some  degree,  be  ascribed  to  the  policy 
of  Constantine,  as  the  barbarians  of  the  Euxine,  who,  in 
the  preceding  age,  had  poured  down  their  armaments 
into  the  heart  of  the  Mediterranean,  soon  desisted  from 
the  exercise  of  piracy  and  despaired  of  facing  this  insur- 
mountable barrier.  When  the  gates  of  the  Hellespont 
and  Bosphorus  were  shut,  the  capital  still  enjoyed,  within 
their  spaciou^^inclosure,  every  production  which  could 
supply  the  wants,  or  gratify  the  luxury,  of  its  numerous 
inhabitants.  The  seacoasts  of  Thrace  and  Bithynia, 
which  languish  under  the  weight  of  Turkish  oppression, 
still  exhibit  a  rich  prospect  of  vineyards,  of  gardens  and 
plentiful  harvests;  and  the  Propontis  has  ever  been  re- 
nowned for  an  inexhaustible  store  of  the  most  exquisite 
fish,  that  are  taken  in  their  stated  seasons  without  skill 
and  almost  without  labour.  But,  when  the  passages  of 
the  Straits  were  thrown  open  for  trade,  they  alternately 
admitted  the  natural  and  artificial  riches  of  the  North 
and  South,  of  the  Euxine  and  the  Mediterranean.  What- 
ever rude  commodities  were  collected  in  the  forests  of 
Germany  and  Scythia,  as  far  as  the  sources  of  the  Tanais 
and  the  Borysthenes,  whatever  was  manufactured  by 
the  skill  of  Europe  and  of  Asia,  the  corn  of  Egypt  and  the 
gems  and  spices  of  the  farthest  India,  were  brought  by  the 
varying  winds  into  the  port  of  Constantinople,  which,  for 
many  ages,  attracted  the  commerce  of  the  ancient  world." 

From  a  strategical  point  of  view,  it  was  of  inestim- 
able advantage  that  the  capital  and  military  centre 


The  Foundation  of  Constantinople  265 

of  the  Empire  should  be  within  striking  distance  of 
the  route  taken  by  the  nomad  populations  of  the 
East  as  they  pressed  towards  the  West,  at  the  head 
of  the  Euxine.  The  Scythians,  the  Goths,  and  the 
Sarmatae  had  all  crossed  that  great  region  ;  the  Huns 
were  to  cross  it  in  the  coming  centuries.  Placed  on 
shipboard  at  Constantinople,  the  legions  of  the  Em- 
pire could  be  swiftly  conveyed  into  the  Euxine,  and 
could  penetrate  up  the  Danube,  Tanais,  or  Borys- 
thenes  to  confront  the  invaders  where  the  danger 
threatened  most. 

The  story  of  how  Constantine  marked  out  the 
boundaries  of  his  new  capital  is  well  known.  Not 
content  with  the  narrow  limits  of  the  ancient  city — 
which  included  little  more  than  the  district  now 
known  as  Seraglio  Point — Constantine  crossed  the 
old  boundary,  spear  in  hand,  and  walked  with 
his  attendants  along  the  shores  of  the  Propon- 
tis,  tracing  the  line  as  he  went.  His  companions 
expressed  astonishment  that  he  continued  so  far 
afield,  and  respectfully  drew  the  Emperor's  attention 
to  the  enormous  circuit  which  the  walls  would  have 
to  enclose.  Constantine  rebuked  them.  "  I  shall 
still  advance,"  he  said,  "  until  He,  the  invisible  guide 
who  marches  before  me,  thinks  it  right  to  stop." 
The  legend  is  first  found  in  Philostorgius,  and  it  is 
not  of  much  importance.  But  Constantine,  as  usual, 
took  care  to  foster  the  belief  that  his  will  was  God's 
will,  even  in  the  matter  of  founding  Constantinople, 
and  that  he  had  but  obeyed  the  clearly  expressed 
command  of  Heaven.  In  one  of  his  edicts  he  in- 
cidentally refers  to  Constantinople  as  the  city  which 


266  Constantine 

he  founded  in  obedience  to  the  mandate  of  God 
{Jubente  Deo).  It  is  a  phrase  which  has  meant  much 
or  httle  according  to  the  character  of  the  kings  who 
have  employed  it.  With  Constantine  it  meant  much, 
and,  above  all,  he  wished  it  to  mean  much  to  his 
subjects. 

Archaeologists  have  not  found  it  an  easy  task  to 
trace  the  line  of  the  walls  of  Constantine,  especially 
on  the  landward  side.  It  followed  the  coast  of  the 
Propontis  from  Seraglio  Point,  the  Emperor  adding 
height  and  strength  to  the  wall  of  Severus  and  ex- 
tending it  to  the  gate  of  St.  ^milianus,  which 
formed  the  south-west  limit  of  his  city.  This  section 
was  thrown  down  by  an  earthquake  and  had  to  be 
rebuilt  by  Arcadius  and  Theodosius  II.  From  St. 
^milianus  the  landward  wall,  with  seven  gates  and 
ninety-five  towers,  stretched  across  from  the  waters 
of  the  Propontis  to  those  of  the  Golden  Horn,  which 
was  reached,  it  is  supposed,  at  a  point  near  the  mod- 
ern Djubali  Kapou.  This  was  demolished  when  the 
city  had  outgrown  it,  and  Theodosius  erected  the 
new  great  wall  which  still  stands  almost  unimpaired. 
The  course  of  the  old  one  can  hardly  be  traced,  but 
it  is  generally  assumed  that  it  did  not  include  all  the 
seven  hills  of  Constantinople,  though  New  Rome,  like 
Old  Rome,  delighted  in  the  epithet  of  Septicollis— 
the  Seven-Hilled.  Along  the  Golden  Horn  no  wall 
was  built  until  five  centuries  had  elapsed.  On  this 
side  Constantine  considered  that  the  city  was  ade- 
quately protected  by  the  waters  of  the  estuary, 
closed  against  the  attack  of  an  enemy  by  a  huge  iron 
chain,  supported  on  floats,  which  stretched  from  the 


The  Foundation  of  Constantinople  267 

Acropolis  of  St.  Demetrius  across  to  the  modern 
Galata.  Confidence  in  the  chain — some  hnks  of 
which  are  still  preserved  in  the  Turkish  arsenal — 
seems  to  have  been  thoroughly  justified.  Only  once 
in  all  the  many  sieges  of  Constantinople  was  it  suc- 
cessfully pierced,  when,  in  1203,  the  Crusading  Latins 
burst  in  upon  the  capital  of  the  East. 

Within  the  area  we  have  described,  great  if  com- 
pared with  the  original  Byzantium,  but  small  in 
comparison  with  the  size  to  which  it  grew  by  the 
reign  of  Theodosius  II.,  Constantine  planned  his 
city.  Probably  no  great  capital  has  ever  been  built 
so  rapidly.  It  was  finished,  or  so  nearly  finished 
that  it  was  possible  to  hold  a  solemn  service  of  dedi- 
cation, by  May,  330 — that  is  to  say,  within  four  ye«rs. 
Throughout  that  period  Constantine  seems  to  have 
had  no  thought  for  anything  else.  He  urged  on  the 
work  with  an  enthusiasm  equal  to  that  which  Dido 
had  manifested  in  encouraging  her  Tyrians  to  raise 
the  walls  of  Carthage, — Instans  operi  regnisque  fu- 
turis. 

The  passion  for  bricks  and  mortar  consumed  him. 
Like  Augustus,  he  thought  that  a  great  imperial  city 
could  not  be  too  lavishly  adorned  as  a  visible  proof 
of  present  magnificence  and  a  guarantee  of  future 
permanence.  Nor  was  it  in  Constantinople  alone 
that  he  built.  Throughout  his  reign  new  pubHc 
buildings  kept  rising  in  Rome,  Jerusalem,  Antioch, 
and  the  cities  of  Gaul.  His  impatience  manifested 
itself  in  his  letters  to  his  provincial  governors.  "  Send 
me  word,"  he  wrote  imperiously  to  one  of  them,  "  not 
that  work  has  been  started  on  your  buildings,  but 


268  Constantine 

that  the  buildings  are  finished."  To  build  Constan- 
tinople he  ransacked  the  entire  world,  first  for  archi- 
tects and  builders,  and  then  for  art  treasures.  With 
such  impetuous  haste  there  was  sure  to  be  scamped 
work.  Some  of  the  buildings  crumbled  at  the  first 
slight  tremor  of  earthquake  or  did  not  even  require 
that  impulse  from  without  to  collapse  into  ruin.  It 
is  by  no  means  impossible  that  the  havoc  which 
seems  to  have  been  wrought  in  Constantinople  by 
earthquakes  during  the  next  two  or  three  centuries 
was  largely  due,  not  to  the  violence  of  the  seismic 
disturbances  but  to  insecure  foundations  and  bad 
materials.  The  cynical  JuHan  compared  the  city  of 
Constantine  to  the  fabled  gardens  of  Adonis,  which 
were  planted  afresh  each  morning  and  withered  anew 
each  night.  Doubtless  there  was  a  substantial  basis 
of  fact  for  that  bitter  jibe. 

Yet,  when  all  allowances  are  made,  it  was  a  mar- 
vellous city  which  Constantine  watched  as  it  rose 
from  its  foundation.  Those  who  study  the  archae- 
ology of  Constantinople  in  the  rich  remains  which 
have  survived  in  spite  of  Time  and  the  Turk,  are 
surprised  to  find  how  constantly  the  history  of  the 
particular  spot  which  they  are  studying  takes  them 
straight  back  to  Constantine.  Despite  the  multi- 
tude of  Emperors  and  Sultans  who  have  succeeded 
him,  each  anxious  to  leave  his  mark  behind  him  in 
stone,  or  brick,  or  marble,  Constantinople  is  still  the 
city  of  Constantine.  In  the  centre,  he  laid  out  the 
Augustaeum,  the  ancient  equivalent,  as  it  has  well 
been  pointed  out,  of  the  modern  "  Place  Imperiale." 
It  was  a  large  open   space,   paved   throughout   in 


ST.  HELENA  AND  THE  CROSS. 

BY    CRANACH.       LICHTENSTEIN    GALLERY,  VIENNA. 


The  Foundation  of  Constantinople  269 

marble,  but  of  unknown  shape,  and  historians  have 
disagreed  upon  the  probability  of  its  having  been 
circular,  square,  or  of  the  shape  of  a  narrow  rect- 
angle. It  was  full  of  noble  statuary,  and  was  sur- 
rounded by  an  imposing  pile  of  stately  buildings. 
To  the  north  lay  the  great  church  of  Sancta  Sophia; 
on  the  east  the  Senate  House  of  the  Augustaeum, 
so  called  to  distinguish  it  from  the  Senate  House  of 
the  Forum  ;  on  the  south  lay  the  palace,  entered  by 
an  enormous  brazen  gate,  called  Chalce,  the  palace 
end  of  the  Hippodrome,  and  the  Baths  of  Zeuxip- 
pus.  The  street  connecting  the  Augustaeum  with 
the  Forum  of  Constantine  was  known  as  Miai],  or 
Middle-street,  and  was  entered  on  the  western  side. 
In  the  Augustaeum,  which  later  Emperors  filled  with 
famous  statues,  there  stood  in  Constantine's  day  a 
single  marble  column  known  as  the  Milion — from 
which  were  measured  distances  throughout  the  Em- 
pire,— a  marble  group  representing  Constantine  and 
Helena  standing  on  either  side  of  a  gigantic  cross, 
and  a  second  statue  of  Helena  upon  a  pedestal  of 
porphyry.  It  was  in  this  Augustaeum,  moreover, 
that  was  to  stand  for  a  thousand  years  the  huge 
equestrian  statue  of  Justinian,  known  through  all 
the  world  and  described  by  many  a  traveller  before 
the  capture  of  the  city  by  the  Turks,  who  broke 
it  into  a  thousand  pieces. 

To  the  west  of  the  Augustaeum  lay  the  Forum  of 
Constantine,  elliptical  in  form  and  surrounded  by 
noble  colonnades,  which  terminated  at  either  end  in 
a  spacious  portico  in  the  shape  of  a  triumphal  arch. 
In  the  centre,  which,  according  to  an  old  tradition, 


270  Constantine 

marked  the  very  spot  on  which  Constantine  had 
pitched  his  camp  when  besieging  Licinius,  stood, 
and  still  stands,  though  in  sadly  mutilated  and  shat- 
tered guise,  the  Column  of  Constantine,  which  has 
long  been  known  either  as  the  Burnt  Pillar,  owing 
to  the  damage  which  it  has  suffered  by  fire,  or  as  the 
Porphyry  Pillar,  because  of  the  material  of  which  it 
was  composed.  There  were  eight  drums  of  por- 
phyry in  all,  brought  specially  from  Rome,  each 
about  ten  feet  in  height,  bound  with  wide  bands 
of  brass  wrought  into  the  shape  of  laurel  wreaths. 
These  rested  upon  a  stylobate  of  white  marble, 
some  nineteen  feet  high,  which  in  turn  stood  upon  a 
stereobate  of  similar  height  composed  of  four  spa- 
cious steps.  Sacred  relics  were  enclosed — or  are 
said  to  have  been  enclosed — within  this  pediment, 
including  things  so  precious  as  Mary  Magdalene's 
alabaster  box,  the  crosses  of  the  two  thieves  who 
had  suffered  with  Christ  upon  Mount  Calvary,  the 
adze  with  which  Noah  had  fashioned  the  Ark  out  of 
rough,  primeval  timber,  and — in  strange  company — 
the  very  Palladium  of  ancient  Rome,  transported 
from  the  Capitol  to  an  alien  and  a  rival  soil.  At 
the  foot  of  the  column  there  was  placed  the  follow- 
ing inscription  :  "  O  Christ,  Ruler  and  Master  of  the 
world,  to  Thee  have  I  now  consecrated  this  obedi- 
ent city  and  this  sceptre  and  the  power  of  Rome. 
Guard  and  deliver  it  from  every  harm." 

At  the  summit  of  the  column  was  a  colossal  statue 
of  Apollo  in  bronze,  filched  from  Athens,  where  it 
was  believed  to  be  a  genuine  example  of  Pheidias. 
But  before  the  statue  had  been  raised  into  position, 


COLUMN  OF  CONSTANTINE  THE  GREAT. 

FROM    GROSVENOR'S  "  CONSTANTINOPLE." 


The  Foundation  of  Constantinople  271 

it  suffered  unworthy  mutilation.  The  head  of  Apollo 
was  removed  and  replaced  by  a  head  of  Constantine. 
This  may  be  interpreted  as  a  confession  of  the  sculp- 
tors of  the  day  that  they  were  unable  to  produce  a 
statue  worthy  of  their  great  Emperor ;  but  the  fact 
that  a  statue  of  Apollo  was  chosen  for  this  doubtful 
honour  of  mutilation  is  worth  at  least  passing  remark, 
when  we  remember  that  before  his  conversion  Con- 
stantine had  selected  Apollo  for  special  reverence. 
It  is  certainly  strange  that  the  first  Christian  Em- 
peror should  have  been  wiUing  to  be  represented, 
on  the  site  which  was  ever  afterwards  to  be  associated 
with  his  name,  by  a  statue  round  which  clustered  so 
many  pagan  associations.  He  did  not  even  disdain 
the  pagan  inscription,  "  To  Constantine  shining  like 
the  Sun  "  ;  nor  did  he  reject  the  pagan  attribute  of  a 
radiated  crown  around  the  head.  In  the  right  hand 
of  Apollo  the  old  Greek  artist  had  placed  a  lance ; 
in  the  left  a  globe.  That  globe  was  now  surmounted 
by  a  cross  and  lo !  Apollo  had  become  Constantine  ; 
the  most  radiant  of  the  gods  of  Olympus  had  become 
the  champion  of  Christ  upon  earth.  The  fate  of 
this  statue — which  was  held  in  such  superstitious 
reverence  that  for  centuries  all  horsemen  dismounted 
before  passing  it,  while  below  it,  on  every  first  day 
of  September,  Emperor,  Patriarch,  and  clergy  as- 
sembled to  chant  hymns  of  prayer  and  praise — may 
be  briefly  told.  In  477  the  globe  was  thrown  down 
by  an  earthquake.  The  lance  suffered  a  like  fate  in 
541,  while  the  statue  itself  came  crashing  to  earth  in 
1 105,  killing  a  number  of  persons  in  its  fall.  The 
column  was  then  surmounted  by  a  cross,  and  fire  and 


272  Constantine 

time  have  reduced  it  to  its  present  almost  shapeless 
and  unrecognisable  mass. 

Close  to  the  Augustaeum  there  began  to  rise  the 
stately  magnificence  of  the  Imperial  Palace,  the  Great 
Palace,  to  fxeya  noKatiov,  as  it  was  called  to  dis- 
tinguish it  from  all  others.  This  was  really  a  cluster 
of  palaces  spread  over  an  enormous  area,  a  self-con- 
tained city  within  itself,  strongly  protected  with 
towers  and  walls.  Here  were  the  Imperial  residences, 
gardens,  churches,  barracks,  and  baths,  and  for  eight 
hundred  years,  until  this  quarter  was  forsaken  for  the 
palace  of  Blachernae  in  another  region  of  the  city. 
Emperors  continued  to  build  and  rebuild  on  this 
favoured  site.  In  later  years  the  Great  Palace  con- 
sisted of  an  interconnected  group  of  buildings  bearing 
such  names  as  Chrysotriklinon,  Trikonchon,  Daphne, 
— so  called  from  a  diviner's  column  brought  to  Con- 
stantinople from  the  Grove  of  Daphne  near  Antioch, 
—  Chalce,  Boucoleon,  and  Manavra.  One  at  least  of 
these  dated  back  to  Constantine.  This  was  the  Por- 
phyry Palace,  with  a  high  pyramidal  roof,  constructed 
of  porphyry  brought  especially  from  Rome.  It  was 
dedicated  to  the  service  of  the  ladies  of  the  Imperial 
Family,  who  retired  thither  to  be  away  from  the 
vexations,  intrigues,  and  anxieties  of  every-day  Hfe 
during  the  time  of  their  pregnancy.  In  the  seclusion 
of  this  Porphyry  Palace  they  were  undisturbed  and 
secure,  and  the  children  born  within  walls  thus  sacred 
to  Imperial  maternity  were  distinguished  by  the  title 
of  "  Porphyrogeniti,"  which  plays  so  prominent  a 
part  in  Byzantine  history. 

Constantine  built  below  ground  as  well  as  above. 


The  Foundation  of  Constantinople  273 

One  of  the  principal  drawbacks — perhaps  the  only 
one — to  the  perfect  suitability  of  the  site  of  Constan- 
tinople was  that  it  contained  very  few  natural  springs. 
Water,  therefore,  had  to  be  brought  into  the  town 
by  gigantic  aqueducts  and  stored  in  cisterns,  some 
small,  some  of  enormous  size,  which  must  have  cost 
fabulous  sums.  The  two  greatest  of  these  are  still 
in  good  preservation  after  nearly  sixteen  centuries  of 
use.  One  is  the  Cistern  of  Philoxenos,  called  by  the 
Turks  Bin  Bir  Derek,  or  the  Thousand  and  One 
Columns.  The  columns  stand  in  sixteen  rows  of 
fourteen  columns  each,  each  column  consisting  of 
three  shafts,  and  each  shaft  being  eighteen  feet  in 
height,  though  all  the  lower  and  most  of  the  middle 
tiers  have  long  been  hidden  by  masses  of  impacted 
earth.  Philoxenos,  whose  name  is  thus  immortalised 
in  this  stupendous  work,  came  to  Constantinople 
from  Rome  at  the  request  of  the  Emperor,  and 
lavished  his  fortune  upon  the  construction  of  this 
cistern  in  proof  of  his  public  spirit  and  in  order  to 
please  his  master.  Assistance  was  also  invited  from 
the  public.  And  just  as  in  our  own  day  subscriptions 
are  often  coaxed  out  of  reluctant  purses  by  deft  ap- 
peal to  the  harmless  vanity  which  delights  to  see 
one's  own  name  inscribed  upon  a  foundation  stone, 
so  in  this  Cistern  of  Philoxenos  there  are  still  to  be 
deciphered  upon  the  columns  the  names  of  the 
donors,  names,  as  Mr.  Grosvenor  points  out  in  his 
most  interesting  account  of  these  cisterns,  which  are 
wholly  Greek.  "  It  is  a  striking  evidence,"  he  says, 
"  how  little  Roman  was  the  Romanised  capital,  that 
every  inscription   is  in  Greek."     The  second  great 


2  74  Constantine 

cistern  is  the  Royal  or  Basilike  Cistern,  begun  by 
Constantine  and  restored  by  Justinian,  which  is  called 
by  the  Turks  Yeri  Batan  Serai,  or  the  Underground 
Palace.  This  is  supported  by  three  hundred  and 
thirty-six  columns,  standing  twelve  feet  apart  in 
twenty-eight  symmetrical  rows.  The  cistern  is  three 
hundred  and  ninety  feet  long  and  a  hundred  and 
seventy-four  feet  wide,  and  still  supplies  water  from 
the  Aqueduct  of  Valens  as  fresh  as  when  its  first 
stone  was  laid. 

The  chief  glories  of  Constantinople,  however,  were 
the  Hippodrome  and  the  churches.  With  the  latter 
we  may  deal  very  briefly,  the  more  so  because  the 
world-renowed  St.  Sophia  is  not  the  St.  Sophia  which 
Constantine  built,  but  the  work  of  Justinian.  Con- 
stantine's  church,  on  which  he  and  many  of  his  suc- 
cessors lavished  their  treasures,  was  burnt  to  the 
ground  and  utterly  consumed  in  the  tumult  of  the 
Nika  which  laid  half  the  city  in  ashes.  Nor  had  St. 
Sophia  been  intended  to  be  the  metropolitan  church. 
That  distinction  belonged  to  the  church  which  Con- 
stantine had  dedicated  not  to  the  Wisdom  but  to  the 
Peace  of  God,  to  St.  Irene.  It,  too,  shared  the  fate 
of  the  sister  church  in  the  tumult  of  the  Nika,  and 
was  similarly  rebuilt  by  Justinian.  This  was  regarded 
as  the  Patriarchal  church  and  called  by  that  name, 
for  here  the  Patriarch  conducted  the  daily  services, 
since  the  church  had  no  clergy  of  its  own.  It  was  at 
the  high  altar  of  St.  Irene  that  the  Patriarch  Alexan- 
der in  335  prayed  day  and  night  that  God  would 
choose  between  himself  and  Arius ;  while  the  answer 
— or  what  was  taken  for  the  answer — was  delivered 


The  Foundation  of  Constantinople  275 

at  the  foot  of  Constantine's  Column.  It  was  in  this 
church  nearly  half  a  century  later  that  the  great 
Arian  controversy  was  ended  in  381,  and  here  that 
the  Holy  Spirit  was  declared  equal  to  the  Father 
and  the  Son.  Since  the  Ottoman  conquest  this 
church — the  sole  survivor  of  all  that  in  Byzantine 
times  once  stood  in  the  region  of  what  is  now  the 
Seraglio — has  been  used  as  an  arsenal  and  military 
museum.  On  its  walls  hang  suits  of  armour,  helmets, 
maces,  spears,  and  swords  of  a  bygone  age,  while 
the  ground  floor  is  stacked  with  modern  rifles. 
The  temple  of  "the  Peace  that  Passeth  Understand- 
ing "  has  been  transformed  into  a  temple  of  war. 
Mr.  Grosvenor  well  sums  up  its  history  in  the  fine 
phrase,  "  Saint  Irene  is  a  prodigious  hearthstone, 
on  which  all  the  ashes  of  religion  and  of  triumph  and 
surrender  have  grown  cold." 

There  is  yet  another  church  in  Constantinople 
which  calls  for  notice.  It  is  the  one  which  Constan- 
tine  dedicated  to  the  Holy  Trinity,  though  its  name 
was  soon  afterwards  changed  to  that  of  the  Holy 
Apostles,  in  honour  of  the  remains  of  Timothy,  An- 
drew, and  Luke,  the  body  of  St.  Mathias,  the  head  of 
James,  the  brother  of  Jesus,  and  the  head  of  St. 
Euphemia,  which  were  enshrined  under  the  great 
High  Altar.  So  rich  a  store  of  relics  was  held  to 
justify  the  change  of  name.  It  was  from  the  pulpit 
of  this  Church  of  the  Holy  Apostles  that  John  Chry- 
sostom  denounced  the  Empress  Eudoxia,  but  the 
chief  title  of  the  building  to  remembrance  is  that  it 
was  for  centuries  the  Mausoleum  of  Constantinople's 
Emperors  and  Patriarchs.     None  but  members  of 


276  Constantine 

the  reigning  house,  or  the  supreme  Heads  of  the 
Eastern  Church,  were  accorded  burial  within  its 
walls.  Constantine  built  a  splendid  Heroon  at  the 
entrance,  just  as  Augustus  had  built  a  magnificent 
Mausoleum  on  the  Field  of  Mars.  When  it  could 
hold  no  more,  Justinian  built  another.  Each  monarch, 
robed  and  crowned  in  death  as  in  life,  had  a  marble 
sarcophagus  of  his  own  ;  no  one  church  in  the  world's 
history  can  ever  have  contained  the  dust  of  so  much 
royalty,  sanctity,  and  orthodoxy.  Apart  from  the 
rest  lay  the  tombs  of  Julian  the  Apostate  and  the 
four  Arian  Emperors,  as  though  cut  off  from  com- 
munion with  their  fellows,  and  removed  as  far  outside 
the  pale  as  the  respect  due  to  an  anointed  Emperor 
would  permit.  It  was  not  the  conquering  Ottoman 
but  the  Latin  Crusaders,  the  robbers  of  the  West, 
who  pillaged  the  sacred  tombs,  stole  their  golden 
ornaments,  and  flung  aside  the  bones  which  had  re- 
posed there  during  the  centuries. 

We  pass  from  the  churches  to  the  Hippodrome, 
a  Campus  Martins  and  Coliseum  combined,  which 
now  bears  the  Turkish  name  of  Atmeidan,  a  trans- 
lation of  its  ancient  Greek  name.  Its  glories  have 
passed  away.  It  has  shrunk  to  little  more  than 
a  third  of  its  original  proportions,  and  is  merely  a 
rough  exercise  ground  surrounded  by  houses.  But 
it  preserves  within  its  attenuated  frame  three  of  the 
most  famous  monuments  of  antiquity,  around  which 
it  is  possible  to  recreate  its  ancient  splendours. 
These  three  monuments  are  the  Egyptian  obelisk, 
the  Serpent  Pillar,  and  a  crumbling  column  that 
looks  as  though  it  must  snap  and  fall  in  the  first 


I 


*^ 


THE  THREE  EXISTING  MONUMENTS  OF  THE  HIPPODROME. 

FROM  GROSVENOR'S  "  CONSTANTINOPLE." 


The  Foundation  of  Constantinople  277 

storm  that  blows.  They  preserve  for  us  the  exact 
line  of  the  old  spina,  round  which  the  charioteers 
used  to  drive  their  steeds  in  furious  rivalry.  The 
obelisk  stood  exactly  in  the  centre  of  the  building, 
which  was  shaped  like  a  narrow  magnet  with  long 
arms.  From  the  obelisk  to  the  middle  of  the  sphen- 
done — that  is  to  say,  the  curving  top  of  a  magnet, 
or  the  loop  of  a  sling — was  691  feet,  while  the  width 
was  395  feet.  The  Hippodrome,  therefore,  was  nearly 
1400  feet  long  by  400  wide,  the  proportions  of  three 
and  a  half  to  one  being  those  of  the  Circus  Maximus 
at  Rome.  It  lay  north-north-east,  conforming  in 
siiape  to  the  Augustaeum.  The  Hippodrome  had 
been  begun  in  203  by  Severus,  to  whom  belongs  the 
credit  of  having  conceived  its  stupendous  plan,  but 
it  had  remained  uncompleted  for  a  century  and  a 
quarter. 

At  the  northern  end,  reaching  straight  across  from 
side  to  side,  was  a  lofty  structure,  raised  upon  pillars 
and  enclosed  within  gates.  Here  were  the  stables  and 
storehouses,  known  to  the  Romans  by  the  name  of 
Carceres  and  to  the  Greeks  as  Mangana.  Above 
was  a  broad  tribunal,  in  the  centre  of  which,  and 
supported  by  marble  pillars,  stood  the  Kathisma, 
with  the  throne  of  the  Emperor  well  in  front.  This, 
in  modern  parlance,  was  the  Royal  Box,  and,  when 
the  Emperor  was  present,  the  tribunal  below  was 
thronged  with  the  high  dignitaries  of  State  and  the 
Imperial  Bodyguard,  while,  in  front  of  the  throne, 
but  at  a  rather  lower  level,  was  the  pillared  plat- 
form, called  the  Pi,  where  stood  the  royal  stan- 
dard-bearers.      Behind  this   entire   structure,  fully 


278  Constantine 

three  hundred  feet  wide  and  so  spacious  that  it 
was  dignified  with  the  name  of  palace  and  con- 
tained long  suites  of  royal  apartments,  was  the 
Church  of  St.  Stephen,  through  which,  by  means 
of  a  spiral  stairway,  access  was  obtained  to  the 
Kathisma.  It  was  always  used  by  the  Emperor  on 
his  visits  to  the  Hippodrome,  and  was  considered  to 
be  profaned  if  trodden  by  meaner  mortals.  The 
palace,  raised  as  it  was  over  the  stables  of  the 
Hippodrome  and  looking  down  the  entire  length  of 
the  arena,  had  no  communication  with  the  body  of 
the  building,  and  on  either  side  the  long  arms  of  the 
Hippodrome  terminated  in  blank  walls.  The  first 
tier  of  seats,  known  as  the  Bouleutikon  or  Podium, 
was  raised  thirteen  feet  above  the  arena.  This  was 
the  place  of  distinction.  At  the  back  rose  tier  upon 
tier,  broken  half-way  by  a  wide  passage,  while  at  the 
very  top  of  all  was  a  broad  promenade  running  right 
round  the  building  from  pole  to  pole  of  the  rragnet. 
This  was  forty  feet  above  the  ground,  aid  the 
benches  and  promenades  were  composed  of  gleam- 
ing marble  raised  upon  arches  of  brick.  There  was 
room  here  for  eighty  thousand  spectators  to  as- 
semble in  comfort,  and  one  seems  to  hear  ringing 
down  the  ages  the  frenzied  shouts  of  the  multitudes 
which  for  centuries  continued  to  throng  this  mighty 
building,  of  which  now  scarce  one  stone  stands  upon 
another.       Mr.    Grosvenor  very    justly    says    that 

"  no  theatre,  no  palace,  no  public  building  has  to-day  a 
promenade  so  magnificent.  .  .  .  Within  was  all  the 
pomp  and  pageantry  of  all  possible  imperial  and  popular 


SdLE.-JCentinielre.  io  SONelres  or98yiFeei. 


PLAN  OF  THE  HIPPODROME. 

FROM    GROSVENOR'S"  CONSTANTINOPLE,' 


The  Foundation  of  Constantinople  279 

contest  and  display  ;  without,  piled  high  around,  were 
the  countless  imposing  structures  '  of  that  city  which  for 
more  than  half  a  thousand  years  was  the  most  elegant, 
the  most  civilised,  almost  the  only  civilised  and  polished 
city  in  the  world.'  Beyond  was  the  Golden  Horn, 
crowded  with  shipping  ;  the  Bosphorus  in  its  winding 
beauty  ;  the  Marmora,  studded  with  islands  and  fringing 
the  Asiatic  coast,  the  long  line  of  the  Arganthonius 
Mountains  and  the  peaks  of  the  Bithynian  Olympus, 
glittering  with  eternal  snow — all  combining  in  a  pano- 
rama which  even  now  no  other  city  of  mankind  can 
rival." 

In  the  middle  of  the  arena  stood  the  spina,  a  mar- 
ble wall,  four  feet  high  and  six  hundred  feet  long, 
with  the  Goal  of  the  Blues  at  the  northern  end 
facing  the  throne,  and  that  of  the  Greens  facing  the 
sphendone.  The  spina  was  decorated  with  the 
choicest  statuary,  including  the  three  surviving  mon- 
uments. Of  these  the  Egyptian  obelisk,  belonging  to  ^ytji^ 
the  reign  of  Thotmes  III.,  had  already  stood  for  ^jS(ji/^ 
more  centuries  in  Egypt  than  have  elapsed  since 
Constantine  transported  it  to  his  new  capital.  When 
it  arrived,  the  engineers  could  not  raise  it  into  posi- 
tion and  it  remained  prone  until,  in  381,  one  Proclus, 
a  praefect  of  the  city,  succeeded  in  erecting  it  upon 
copper  cubes.  The  shattered  column  belongs  to  a 
much  later  epoch  than  that  of  Constantine.  It  was 
set  up  by  Constantine  VIII.  Porphyrogenitus,  and 
once  glittered  in  the  sun,  for  it  was  covered  with 
plates  of  burnished  brass.  The  third,  and  by  far 
the  most  interesting  monument  of  the  three,  is  the 
famous  column  of  twisted  serpents  from  Delphi.    Its 


28o  Constantine 

romantic  history  never  grows  dull  by  repetition. 
For  this  is  that  serpent  column  of  Corinthian  brass 
which  was  dedicated  to  Apollo  by  the  thankful  and 
exultant  Greeks  after  the  battle  of  Plataea,  when  the 
hosts  of  the  Persian  Xerxes  were  thrust  back  from 
the  soil  of  Greece  never  to  return.  It  bears  upon  its 
coils  the  names  of  the  thirty-one  Greek  cities  which 
fought  for  freedom,  and  there  is  still  to  be  seen,  in- 
scribed in  slightly  larger  characters  than  the  rest,  the 
name  of  the  Tenians,  who,  as  Herodotus  tells  us, 
succeeded  in  proving  to  the  satisfaction  of  their  sis- 
ter states  that  they  deserved  inclusion  in  so  honour- 
able a  memorial.  The  history  of  this  column  from 
the  fifth  century  before  the  Christian  era  down  to 
the  present  time  is  to  be  read  in  a  long  succession  of 
Greek,  Roman,  mediaeval,  and  modern  historians;  and 
as  late  as  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century 
the  three  heads  of  the  serpents  were  still  in  their 
place.  But  even  in  its  mutilated  state  there  is  per- 
haps no  relic  of  antiquity  which  can  vie  in  interest 
with  this  column,  associated  as  it  was  in  the  day  of 
its  fashioning  with  Pausanias  and  Themistocles,  with 
Xerxes  and  with  Mardonius.  We  have  then  to  think 
of  it  standing  for  seven  centuries  in  the  holiest  place 
of  all  Hellas,  the  shrine  of  Apollo  at  Delphi.  There  it 
was  surmounted  by  a  golden  tripod,  on  which  sat  the 
priestess  who  uttered  the  oracles  which,  in  important 
crises,  prompted  the  policy  and  guided  the  develop- 
ment of  the  cities  of  Greece.  The  column  is  hollow, 
and  it  is  possible  that  the  mephitic  exhalations, 
which  are  supposed  to  have  stupefied  the  priestess 
when   she  was  possessed  by  the  god,  mounted  up 


mmm^m 


t    .'" 

(^ 

i 

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9      , 

M 

^.  , 

j'ij 

^<6i^%t%' 


nii!*-%5*ssiBi«iilc: 


^^ 


MfWf»: 


The  Foundation  of  Constantinople  281 

the  interior  of  the  spiral.  The  golden  tripod  was 
stolen  during  the  wars  with  Philip  of  Macedon;  Con- 
stantine  replaced  it  by  another  when  he  brought  the 
column  from  Delphi  to  Constantinople.  And  there, 
surviving  all  the  vicissitudes  through  which  the  city- 
has  passed,  still  stands  the  column,  still  fixed  to  the 
pedestal  upon  which  Constantine  mounted  it,  many 
feet  below  the  present  level  of  the  Atmeidan,  still  an 
object  of  superstition  to  Christian  as  well  as  to  the 
Turk,  and  owing,  no  doubt,  its  marvellous  preserva- 
tion to  the  indefinable  awe  which  clings,  even  in  ruin, 
to  the  sacred  relics  of  a  discredited  religion. 

To  the  Hippodrome  itself  there  were  four  princi- 
pal entrances.  The  gate  of  the  Blues  was  close  by 
the  Carceres  or  Mangana,  on  the  western  side,  with 
the  gate  of  the  Greens  facing  it.  At  the  other  end, 
just  where  the  long  straight  line  was  broken  and 
the  building  began  to  curve  into  the  sphendone,  was 
a  gate  on  the  eastern  side  which  bore  the  ill-omened 
name  of  the  Gate  of  the  Dead,  opposite  another, 
the  name  of  which  is  not  known.  The  gate  of  the 
Blues — the  royal  faction — was  the  grand  entrance  for 
all  state  processions. 

Such  was  the  outward  form  of  the  famous  Hippo- 
drome, and  Mr.  Grosvenor  justly  dwells  on  the  im- 
posing vastness  and  beauty  of  its  external  appearance. 

"  The  walls  were  of  brick,  laid  in  arches  and  faced  by 
a  row  of  Corinthian  pillars.  What  confronted  the  spec- 
tator's eye  was  a  wall  in  superposed  and  continuous 
arches,  seen  through  an  endless  colonnade.  Seventeen 
columns  were  still  erect  upon  their  bases  in  1529.  Gyl- 
lius,  who  saw  them,  says  that  their  diameter  was  three 


282  Constantine 

and  eleven-twelfths  feet.  Each  was  twenty-eight  feet 
high,  and  pedestal  and  capital  added  seven  feet  more. 
They  stood  eleven  feet  apart.  Hence,  deducting  for 
the  gates,  towers,  and  palace,  at  least  two  hundred  and 
sixty  columns  would  be  required  in  the  circuit.  If  one, 
with  the  curiosity  of  a  traveller,  wished  to  journey  round 
the  entire  perimeter,  he  must  continue  on  through  a  dis- 
tance of  three  thousand  and  fifteen  feet,  before  his  pil- 
grimage ended  at  the  spot  where  it  had  begun;  and  ever, 
as  he  toiled  along,  there  loomed  into  the  air  that  pro- 
digious mass,  forty  feet  above  his  head.  No  wonder  that 
there  remained,  even  in  the  time  of  the  Sultan  Soulei- 
man,  enough  to  construct  that  most  superb  of  mosques, 
the  Souleimanieh,  from  the  fallen  columns,  the  splintered 
marbles,  the  brick  and  stone  of  the  Hippodrome." 

But  it  was  not  merely  the  shell  of  the  Hippodrome 
that  was  imposing  by  reason  of  its  size  and  magnifi- 
cence. It  was  filled  with  the  choicest  art  treasures 
of  the  ancient  world.  Constantine  stole  masterpieces 
with  the  catholicity  of  taste,  the  excellence  of  artistic 
judgment,  and  the  callous  indifference  to  the  rights 
of  ownership  which  characterised  Napoleon.  He 
stripped  the  world  naked  of  its  treasures,  as  St. 
Jerome  neatly  remarked.*  Rome  and  its  conquer- 
ing proconsuls  and  propraetors  had  done  the  same. 
Constantine  now  robbed  Rome  and  took  whatever 
Rome  had  left.  Greece  was  still  a  fruitful  quarry. 
We  have  already  spoken  of  the  Serpent  Column, 
which  was  torn  from  Delphi.  The  historians  have 
preserved  for  us  the  names  of  a  number  of  other 
famous  works  of  art  which  adorned  the  spina  and 


Constantinopolis  dedicatur  pcene  omnium  terbium  nuditate. 


The  Foundation  of  Constantinople  283 

the  promenade  of  the  Hippodrome.  There  was  a 
Brazen  Eagle,  clutching  a  writhing  snake  in  its  talons 
and  rising  in  the  air  with  wings  outspread;  the  Her- 
cules of  Lysippus,  of  a  size  so  heroic  that  it  measured 
six  feet  from  the  foot  to  the  knee ;  the  Brazen  Ass 
and  its  driver,  a  mere  copy  of  which  Augustus  had 
offered  to  his  own  city  of  Nicopolis  founded  on  the 
shores  of  Actium;  the  Poisoned  Bull;  the  Angry  Ele- 
phant; the  gigantic  figure  of  a  woman  holding  in  her 
hand  a  horse  and  its  rider  of  life  size  ;  the  Calydonian 
Boar;  eight  Sphinxes,  and  last,  but  by  no  means 
least,  the  Horses  of  Lysippus.  These  horses  have 
a  history  with  which  no  other  specimens  of  equine 
statuary  can  compare.  They  first  adorned  a  temple 
at  Corinth.  Taken  to  Rome  by  Memmius  when  he 
laid  Corinth  in  ashes,  they  were  placed  before  the 
Senate  House.  Nero  removed  them  that  they  might 
grace  his  triumphal  arch;  Trajan,  with  juster  excuse, 
did  the  same.  Constantine  had  them  sent  to  Con- 
stantinople. Then,  after  nearly  nine  centuries  had 
passed,  they  were  again  packed  up  and  transported 
back  to  Italy.  The  aged  Dandolo  had  claimed  them 
as  part  of  his  share  of  the  booty  and  sent  them  to 
Venice.  There  they  remained  for  almost  six  cent- 
uries more  until  Napoleon  cast  covetous  eyes  upon 
them  and  had  them  taken  to  Paris  to  adorn  his  Arc 
de  Triomphe.  On  his  downfall  Paris  was  compelled 
to  restore  them  to  Venice  and  the  horses  of  Lysippus 
paw  the  air  once  more  above  the  roof  of  St.  Mark's 
Cathedral. 

We  have  thus  briefly  enumerated  the  most  mag- 
nificent   public   buildings   with   which   Constantine 


284  Constantine 

adorned  his  new  capital,  and  the  choicest  works  of 
art  with  which  these  were  further  embellished.  The 
Emperor  pressed  on  the  work  with  extraordinary 
activity.  No  one  believes  the  story  of  Codinus 
that  only  nine  months  elapsed  between  the  laying 
of  the  first  stone  and  the  formal  dedication  which 
took  place  in  the  Hippodrome  on  May  nth,  330, 
but  it  is  only  less  wonderful  that  so  much  should 
have  been  done  in  four  years.  The  same  un- 
trustworthy author  also  tells  a  strange  story  of 
how  Constantine  took  advantage  of  the  absence  of 
some  of  his  officers  on  public  business  to  build  exact 
models  of  their  Roman  mansions  in  Constantinople, 
and  transport  all  their  household  belongings,  families, 
and  households  to  be  ready  for  them  on  their  return 
as  a  pleasant  surprise.  What  is  beyond  doubt  is 
that  the  Emperor  did  offer  the  very  greatest  induce- 
ments to  the  leading  men  of  Rome  to  leave  Rome 
for  good  and  make  Constantinople  their  home.  He 
even  published  an  edict  that  no  one  dwelling  in  Asia 
Minor  should  be  allowed  to  enter  the  Imperial  service 
unless  he  built  himself  a  house  in  Constantinople. 
Peter  the  Great  issued  a  like  order  when  he  founded 
St.  Petersburg  and  opened  a  window  looking  on 
Europe.  The  Emperor  changed  the  destination  of 
the  corn  ships  of  Egypt  from  Rome  to  Constantin- 
ople, established  a  lavish  system  of  distributions  of 
wheat  and  oil  and  even  of  money  and  wine,  and 
created  at  the  cost  of  the  treasury  an  idle  and  cor- 
rupt proletariate.  He  thus  transported  to  his  new 
capital  all  the  luxuries  and  vices  of  the  old. 


'^S 

^^ 

CHAPTER   XIV 

ARIUS   AND   ATHANASIUS 

WE  have  seen  how,  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
Council  of  Nicaea,  it  looked  as  if  the  Church 
had  entered  into  her  rest.  The  day  of  persecution 
was  over;  Christianity  had  found  in  the  Emperor 
an  ardent  and  impetuous  champion;  a  creed  had 
been  framed  which  seemed  to  establish  upon  a  sure 
foundation  the  deepest  mysteries  of  the  faith  ;  heresy 
not  only  lay  under  anathema,  but  had  been  reduced 
to  silence.  Throughout  the  East— the  West  had 
remained  practically  untroubled — the  feehngwasone 
of  confidence  and  joy.  Constantine  rejoiced  as 
though  he  had  won  a  personal  victory;  his  subjects, 
we  are  told,*  thought  the  kingdom  of  Christ  had 
already  begun.  When  Gregory,  the  Illuminator  of 
Armenia,  met  his  son,  Aristaces,  returning  from 
Nicaea  and  heard  from  his  lips  the  text  of  the  new 
creed,  he  at  once  exclaimed  :  "Yea,  we  glorify  Him 
who  was  before  the  ages,  by  adoring  the  Holy  Trin- 
ity and  the  one  Godhead  of  the  Father,  and  of  the 
Son  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  now  and  for  ever, 
through  ages  and  ages." 

*l>e  Fita  Const.,  iii.,  c.  14. 

285 


286  Constantine 

Moreover,  the  Emperor's  violent  edicts  against 
the  Arians,  and  the  banishment  of  Eusebius  and 
Theognis,  all  indicated  a  settled  and  rooted  convic- 
tion which  nothing  could  shake,  while  the  death 
of  the  Patriarch  Alexander  of  Alexandria  and  the 
election  of  Athanasius  in  his  stead  must  have 
strengthened  enormously  the  Catholic  party  in 
Egypt  and,  indeed,  throughout  the  East.  Alex- 
ander had  died  within  a  few  months  of  his  return 
from  Nicaea,  in  the  early  part  of  326.  He  is  said, 
when  on  his  death-bed,  to  have  foretold  the  eleva- 
tion of  Athanasius  and  the  trials  which  lay  before 
him.  He  had  called  for  Athanasius — who  at  the 
moment  was  away  from  Egypt — and  another  Athana- 
sius, who  was  present  in  the  room,  answered  for  the 
absent  one.  The  dying  man,  however,  was  not 
deceived  and  said  :  "  Athanasius,  you  think  you 
have  escaped,  but  you  will  not ;  you  cannot."  We 
need  not  recount  the  stories  which  the  malignity 
of  his  enemies  invented  in  order  to  cast  discredit 
upon  Athanasius'  election.  There  is  no  reason  to 
doubt  either  its  validity  or  its  overwhelming  popu- 
larity in  Alexandria,  where,  while  the  Egyptian 
bishops  were  in  session,  the  Catholics  outside  the 
building  kept  up  the  unceasing  cry :  "  Give  us 
Athanasius,  the  good,  the  holy,  the  ascetic."  The 
election  was  not  unanimous.  Evidently  some 
thought  the  situation  required  a  conciliatory  de- 
meanour towards  the  beaten  Arians.  But  that 
was  not  the  view  of  the  majority,  who,  by  choos- 
ing Athanasius,  set  the  best  fighting  man  on 
their  side   upon   the   throne  of   St.    Mark.      They 


Arius  and  Athanasius  2S7 

did  wisely.     Tolerance  was  not  properly  understood 
in  the  fourth  century. 

The  outward  peace  lasted  little  more  than  two 
years.  Unfortunately,  we  are  almost  entirely  in  the 
dark  as  to  what  took  place  during  that  time,  beyond 
the  certain  fact  of  the  recall  of  Arius,  Eusebius,  and 
Theognis.  Arius  had  -been  banished  to  Galatia; 
then  we  read  of  the  sentence  being  partially  re- 
voked, and  the  only  embargo  placed  upon  his  free- 
dom of  movement  was  that  he  was  forbidden  to 
return  to  A.rexaTrdria.  Did  this  take  place  before 
the  recaTTlDf  Eusebius  and  Theognis  ?  Socrates 
gives  the  text  of  a  strange  letter  written  by  these 
two  prelates  to  the  principal  bishops  of  the  Church, 
in  which  they  definitely  say  that,  inasmuch  as  Arius 
has  been  recalled  from  exile,  they  hope  the  bishops 
will  use  their  influence  with  the  Emperor  on  their 
behalf. 

"  After  closely  studying  the  question  of  the  Homo- 
ousion,"  they  say,  "  we  are  wholly  intent  on  preserving 
peace  and  we  have  been  seduced  by  no  heresy.  We  sub- 
scribed to  the  Creed,  after  suggesting  what  we  thought 
best  for  the  Church,  but  we  refused  to  sign  the  anathema, 
not  because  we  had  any  fault  to  find  with  the  Creed, 
but  because  we  did  not  consider  Arius  to  be  what  he 
was  represented  as  being.  The  letters  we  had  received 
from  him  and  the  discourses  we  had  heard  him  de- 
liver compelled  us  to  form  a  totally  different  estimate  of 
his  character," 

The   authenticity  of   this  letter   has   been  sharply 
called  in  question,  for  there  is  no  other  scrap  of 


288  Constantine 

evidence  confirming  the  statement  that  Arius  was 
recalled  before  Eusebius  and  Theognis — in  itself  a 
most  improbable  step.  Constantine  had  issued  an 
edict  that  any  one  concealing  a  copy  of  the  writings 
of  Arius  and  not  instantly  handing  it  over  to  the 
authorities  to  be  burnt,  should  be  put  to  death,  and 
it  is  much  more  probable  that  Arius  was  recalled 
after,  rather  than  before,  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia. 
The  "  History  "  of  Socrates  contains  many  letters  of 
doubtful  authenticity  and  some  which  are,  beyond 
dispute,  forgeries.  Among  the  latter  we  may  cer- 
tainly include  the  portentously  long  document  in 
which  Constantine  is  represented  as  making  a  grossly 
personal  attack  on  the  banished  Arius.  We  will  con- 
tent ourselves  with  quoting  the  most  vituperative 
passage : 

"  Look  !  Look  all  of  you  !  See  what  wretched  cries 
he  utters,  writhing  in  pain  from  the  bite  of  the  serpent's 
tooth  !  See  how  his  veins  and  flesh  are  poison-tainted 
and  what  agonised  convulsions  they  excite  !  See  how 
his  body  is  wasted  away  with  disease  and  squalor,  with 
dirt  and  lamentation,  with  pallor  and  horror  !  See  how 
he  is  withered  up  with  a  thousand  evils  !  See  how 
horrible  to  look  upon  is  his  filthy  tangled  head  of  hair  ; 
how  he  is  half  dead  from  top  to  toe  ;  how  languid  is  the 
aspect  of  his  haggard,  bloodless  face  ;  how  madness, 
fury,  and  vanity,  swooping  down  upon  him  together, 
have  reduced  him  to  what  he  is — a  savage  and  wild 
beast  !  He  does  not  even  recognise  the  horrible 
situation  he  is  in.  *  I  am  beside  myself  with  joy '  ;  he 
says,  '  I  dance  and  leap  with  glee  ;  I  fly  ;  I  am  a  happy 
boy  again.'  " 


ST.    ATHANASIUS. 

FROM    THE    BRITISH    MUSEUM   PRINT   ROOM. 


Arius  and  Athanasius  289 

Assuredly  this  raving  production  never  came 
from  tlie  pen  of  Constantine,  and  it  bears  no  resem- 
blance to  his  ordinary  style.  The  resounding  plati- 
tude with  which  it  opens,  "  An  evil  interpreter  is 
really  the  image  and  counterpart  of  the  Devil," 
leads  us  confidently  to  acquit  the  Emperor  of  its 
authorship  and  ascribe  it  to  some  anonymous  and 
unknown  ecclesiastic  desirous  at  once  of  edifying 
and  terrifying  the  faithful. 

We  can  only  surmise  the  circumstances  which 
worked  upon  the  Emperor's  mind  and  caused  his 
complete  change  of  front  with  respect  to  Arianism 
and  its  exponents.  Sozomen,  indeed,  attributes  it 
wholly  to  the  influence  of  his  sister,  Constantia. 
According  to  an  Arian  legend  quoted  by  that 
historian,  it  was  revealed  to  the  Princess  in  "  a 
vision  from  God "  that  it  was  the  exiled  bishops 
who  held  the  true  orthodox  doctrine  and,  therefore, 
that  they  had  been  unjustly  banished.  She  worked 
upon  the  impressionable  mind  of  her  brother,  and  the 
two  bishops  were  recalled.  When  Constantine  asked 
whether  they  still  held  the  Nicene  doctrines  to 
which  they  had  subscribed,  they  replied  that  they 
had  assented,  not  from  conviction,  but  from  the 
fear  lest  the  Emperor  should  be  disgusted  at  the 
dissensions  among  the  Christians,  and  revert  to  pa- 
ganism.  This  curious  story  certainly  tends  to  con- 
firm the  tradition  that  it  was  Constantia  who  was 
the  court  patroness  of  the  Arians.  She  had  been 
for  years  Empress  in  the  palace  of  Nicomedia,  and 
it  is  easy  to  suppose  that  the  very  able  Bishop 
of  that  city  had   established   a  strong  ascendency 


290  Constantlne 

over  her  mind,  long  before  the  Arian  controversy 
arose. 

The  upshot  of  the  whole  matter — however  the 
change  was  brought  about — was  that  in  the  year 
329,  the  Arian  and  Eusebian  party  was  paramount 
at  tlie  Imperial  Court.  They  had  persuaded  the 
Emperor  that  theirs  was  the  party  of  reason,  and 
that  those  who  persisted  in  troubling  the  peace  of 
the  Church  by  holding  extreme  views  and  seeking 
to  impose  rigorous  tests  were  the  followers  of  the 
new  Patriarch  of  Alexandria.  They  had  subscribed 
to  the  Nicene  Creed  or  to  a  Creed  which — so  they 
persuaded  the  Emperor — was  practically  indistin- 
guishable from  it,  and  they  now  plotted,  with  great 
skill  and  adroitness,  to  undermine  the  position  of 
Athanasius,  How  they  conducted  the  intrigue  we 
do  not  know,  but  it  is  significant  that  after  the 
break  up  of  the  Council  of  Nicaea  we  hear  no  more, 
during  Constantine's  lifetime,  of  his  long-trusted 
adviser  Hosius,  Bishop  of  Cordova.  The  dreadful 
tragedies  in  the  Imperial  Family  had  taken  place  at 
Rome  in  the  summer  of  326.  It  is  possible  that 
Hosius  made  no  secret  of  his  horror  at  these 
monstrous  crimes  and  retired  to  his  Spanish  bishop- 
ric, and  that  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia,  when  brought 
into  communication  with  Constantine,  was  not  so 
exacting  in  his  demand  for  a  show  of  penitence  and 
proved  more  skilful  in  allaying  the  Emperor's 
remorse.  Be  that  as  it  may,  as  soon  as  Eusebius 
felt  assured  of  his  position,  he  lost  no  time  in  pro- 
secuting a  vigorous  campaign  against  those  who  had 
triumphed  over  him  at  Nicsea.     The  first  blow  was 


Arius  and  Athanasius  291 

directed  against  Eustathius,  the  Bishop  of  Antioch, 
who  was  charged  with  heresy,  profligacy,  and 
tyranny  by  the  two  Eusebii  and  a  number  of  other 
bishops,  then  on  their  way  to  Jerusalem.  Whether 
the  charges  were  well  founded  or  not,  the  tribunal 
was  a  prejudiced  one  and  the  sentence  of  de- 
privation and  banishment  passed  upon  Eustathius 
was  bitterly  resented  in  Antioch. 

After  certain  other  bishops  had  met  with  a  like  fate, 
the  Eusebii  flew  at  higher  game  and  attacked  Ath- 
anasius. They  had  already  entered  into  an  under-"' 
standing  with  the  Meletian  faction  in  Egypt,  who 
carefully  kept  alive  the  charges  against  Athanasius, 
and  now  they  again  took  up  the  cudgels  on  behalf 
of  Arius.  Eusebius  wrote  to  the  Patriarch  asking  him 
to  restore  Arius  to  communion  on  the  ground  that 
he  had  been  grievously  misrepresented.  Athanasius 
bluntly  refused.  Arius,  he  said,  had  started  a  deadly 
heresy:  he  had  been  anathematised  by  an  CEcumeni- 
cal  Council:  how,  then,  could  he  be  restored  to 
communion?  Eusebius  and  Arius  appealed  to  the 
Emperor.  Constantine,  who  had  previously  ordered 
Arius  to  attend  at  court  and  promised  him  signal 
proof  of  his  regard  and  permission  to  return  to  Alex- 
andria, sent  a  peremptoi;y  message  to  Athanasius 
bidding  him  admit  Arius.  When  Athanasius,  on  the 
score  of  conscience,  returned  a  steady  refusal,  the 
Emperor  angrily  threatened  that,  if  he  did  not  throw 
open  his  church  doors  to  all  who  desired  to  enter,  he 
would  send  an  officer  to  turn  him  out  of  his  church 
and  expel  him  from  Alexandria.  "Now  that  you 
have  full  knowledge  of  my  will,"  he  added,  "  see  that 


292  Constantine 

you  provide  uninterrupted  entry  to  all  who  wish  to 
enter  the  church.  If  I  hear  that  you  have  prevented 
any  one  from  joining  the  services,  or  have  shut  the 
doors  in  their  faces,  I  will  at  once  despatch  some  one 
to  deport  you  from  Alexandria."  The  threat  did 
not  terrify  Athanasius,  who  declared  that  there  could 
be  no  fellowship  between  heretics  and  true  believ- 
ers.    Nor  was  the  Imperial  ofificer  sent. 

Then  began  an  extraordinary  campaign  of  calumny 
against  the  Patriarch,  who  was  accused  of  taxing 
Egypt  in  order  to  buy  a  supply  of  linen  garments, 
called  "  sticharia,"  for  his  church  ;  of  instigating  one 
Macarius  to  upset  a  communion  table  and  break  a 
sacred  chalice ;  of  murdering  a  Meletian  bishop 
named  Arsenius,  who  was  presently  found  alive  and 
well;  and  of  other  crimes  equally  preposterous  and 
unfounded.  It  was  the  Meletian  irreconcilables  in 
Egypt  who  brought  these  calumnies  forward,  but 
Athanasius  had  no  doubt  that  the  moving  spirit  was 
none  other  than  Eusebius  himself.  And  his  enemies, 
whoever  they  were,  were  untiring  and  implacable. 
As  soon  as  one  calumny  was  refuted,  they  were 
ready  with  another,  and  all  this  time  there  was 
Eusebius  at  the  Emperor's  side,  continually  suggest- 
ing that  with  so  much  smoke  there  needs  must  be 
some  fire,  and  that  Athanasius  ought  to  be  called 
upon  to  clear  himself,  lest  the  scandal  should  do  in- 
jury to  the  Church^  Constantine  summoned  a  coun- 
cil to  try  Athanasius  in  333,  and  fixed  the  place  of 
meeting  in  Caesarea, — a  tolerably  certain  proof  that 
the  two  Eusebii  were  acting  in  concert.  For  some 
reason  not  stated  the  bishops  did  not  assemble  until 


Arius  and  Athanasius  293 

the  following  year,  and  then  Athanasius  refused  to 
attend.  Not  until-^^-dttf'Athanasius  stand  before 
his  episcopal  judges  at  Tyre. 

Accompanied  by  some  fifty  of  his  suffragans, 
Athanasius  had  made  the  journey,  only  to  find  him- 
self confronted  by  a  packed  cojAncil.  All  his  bitter- 
est enemies  were  there  ;  all  the  old  unsubstantiated 
charges  were  resuscitated.  His  election  was  said  to 
be  uncanonical ;  he  was  charged  with  personal  un- 
chastity  and  with  cruelty  towards  certain  Meletian 
bishops  and  priests  ;  and,  most  curious  of  all,  the  an- 
cient calumnies  of  "  The  Broken  Chalice  "  and  "  The 
Dead  Man's  Hand"  were  revived  and  pressed,  as 
though  they  had  never  been  confuted.  With  re- 
spect to  the  latter  charge,  Athanasius  enjoyed  one 
moment  of  signal  triumph.  After  his  accusers  had 
caused  a  thrill  of  horror  to  pass  through  the  Council 
by  producing  a  blackened  and  withered  hand,  which 
they  declared  to  belong  to  the  missing  Bishop  Ar- 
senius,  who  was  supposed  to  have  suffered  foul  play, 
Athanasius  asked  whether  any  of  those  present  had 
known  Arsenius  personally.  A  number  of  bishops 
claimed  acquaintance,  and  then  Athanasius  gave  the 
signal  for  a  man,  who  was  standing  by  closely 
muffled  in  a  cloak,  to  come  forward.  "  Lift  up  your 
head !  "  said  Athanasius.  The  unknown  did  so,  and 
lo  !  it  was  none  other Jthan_ Arsenius  himself.  Ath- 
anasius drew  aside  the  cloak,  first  from  one  hand  and 
then  from  the  other.  "  Has  God  given  to  any  man," 
he  asked  quietly,  "more  hands  than  two?"  His 
enemies  were  silenced,  but  only  for  the  moment. 
One  of   them,  cleverer  than  the  rest,  immediately 


294  Constantine 

exclaimed  that  this  was  mere  sorcery  and  devil's  work ; 
the  man  was  not  Arsenius  ;  in  fact,  he  was  not  even 
a  man  at  all,  but  a  mere  counterfeit,  an  illusion  of 
the  senses  produced  by  Athanasius*  horrible  pro- 
ficiency in  the  black  art.  And  we  are  told  that  this 
ingenious  explanation  proved  so  convincing  to  the 
assembly,  and  created  such  a  fury  of  resentment 
against  Athanasius,  that  Dionysius,  the  Imperial  of- 
ficer who  had  been  deputed  by  Constantine  to  repre- 
sent him  at  the  Council,  had  to  hurry  Athanasius  on 
shipboard  to  save  him  from  personal  violence. 

There  was  clearly  so  little  corroborative  evidence 
against  Athanasius  that  the  Council  dared  not  con- 
vict him.  But,  as  they  were  equally  determined  not 
to  acquit  him,  they  appointed  a  commission  of  en- 
quiry  to  collect  testimony  on  the  spot  in  the  Mare- 
otis  district  of  Egypt  with  respect  to  the  story  of 
the  Broken  Chalice.  The  six  commissioners  were 
chosen  in  secret  session  by  the  anti-Athanasian  fac- 
tion. Athanasius  protested  without  avail  against 
the  selection :  they  were  all,  he  said,  his  private  en- 
emies. The  commission  sailed  for  Egypt,  and  Ath- 
anasius determined,  with  characteristic  boldness,  to 
go  to  Constantinople,  confront  the  Emperor,  and 
appeal  for  justice  and  a  fair  trial  at  the  fountain- 
head.  Athanasius  met  the  Emperor  as  he  was  riding 
into  the  city,  and  stood  before  him  in  his  path. 
What  followed  is  best  told  by  Constantine  himself 
in  a  letter  which  he  wrote  to  the  Bishop  of  Tyre.* 
Here  are  his  own  words  : 


*  Sozomen  II.,  28. 


Arius  and  Athanasius  295 

"  As  I  was  returning  on  horseback  to  the  city  which 
bears  my  name,  Athanasius,  the  Bishop,  presented  him- 
self so  unexpectedly  in  the  middle  of  the  highway,  with 
certain  individuals  who  accompanied  him,  that  I  felt  ex- 
ceedingly surprised  on  beholding  him.  God,  who  sees 
all,  is  my  witness  that  at  first  I  did  not  know  who  he  was, 
but  some  of  my  attendants,  having  ascertained  this  and 
the  subject  of  his  complaint,  gave  me  the  necessary  in- 
formation. I  did  not  accord  him  an  interview,  but  he 
persevered  in  requesting  an  audience,  and,  although  I 
refused  him  and  was  on  the  point  of  ordering  that  he 
should  be  removed  from  my  presence,  he  told  me,  with 
greater  boldness  than  he  had  previously  manifested,  that 
he  sought  no  other  favour  of  me  than  that  I  should  sum- 
mon you  hither,  in  order  that  he  might,  in  your  presence, 
complain  of  the  injustice  that  had  been  done  to  him." 

Such  boldness  had  the  success  it  deserved.  Gon- 
stantine  evidently  made  enquires  from  Count  Diony- 
sius,  and,  discovering  that  the  Council  at  Tyre  was 
a  mere  travesty  of  justice,  ordered  the  bishops  to 
come  forthwith  to  Constantinople.  But  before  these 
instructions  reached  them  they  had  received  the  re- 
port of  the  Egyptian  commissioners,  and,  on  the 
strength  of  it,  had  condemned  Athanasius  by  a  ma- 
jority of  votes,  recognised  the  Meletians  as  orthodox, 
and,  adjourning  to  Jerusalem  for  the  dedication  of 
the  new  church,  had  there  pronounced  Arius  to  be 
a  true  Catholic  and  in  full  communion  with  the 
Church.  The  Emperor's  letter,  which  began  with  a 
reference  to  the  "  tumults  and  disorders"  which  had 
marked  their  sessions,  was  a  plain  intimation  that 
he  disapproved  of  their  proceedings,  and  only  six 


296  Constantine 

bishops,  the  two  Eusebii  and  four  others,  travelled 
up  to  Constantinople.  Arrived  there,  they  changed 
their  tactics,  and  recognising  that  the  old  charges 
against  Athanasius  had  fallen  helplessly  to  the 
ground,  they  invented  another  which  was  much 
more  likely  to  have  weight  with  the  Emperor. 
They  accused  him  of  seeking  to  prevent  the  Alex- 
andrian corn  ships  from  sailing  to  Constantinople. 
Egypt  was  the  granary  of  the  new  Rome  as  well  as 
of  the  old,  and  upon  the  regular  arrival  of  the  Egyp- 
tian wheat  cargoes  the  tranquillity  of  Constantinople 
largely  depended.  Athanasius  protested  that  he 
had  entertained  no  such  designs.  He  was,  he  said, 
simply  a  bishop  of  the  Church,  a  poor  man  with  no 
political  ambition  or  taste  for  intrigue.  His  enemies 
retorted  that  he  was  not  poor,  but  wealthy,  and  that 
he  had  gained  a  dangerous  ascendency  over  the  tur- 
bulent people  of  Alexandria.  Constantine  abruptly 
ended  the  dispute  by  banishing  Athanasius  to  Treves, 
and  the  Patriarch  had  no  choice  but  to  obey.  He 
arrived  at  his  city  of  exile  in  336,  and  was  received 
with  all  honour  by  the  Emperor's  son  Constantine, 
then  installed  in  the  Gallic  capital  as  the  Caesar  of 
the  West.  This  is  tolerably  certain  proof  that  the 
Emperor  did  not  regard  him  as  a  very  dangerous 
political  opponent,  but  banished  him  rather  for  the 
sake  of  religious  peace.  Constantine  was  weary  of 
such  interminable  disputations  and  such  intractable 
disputants. 

The  exile  of  Athanasius  was  of  course  a  signal 
victory  for  the  Eusebians  and  for  Arius.  With  the 
Patriarch  of  Alexandria  thus  safely  out  of  the  way. 


Arius  and  Athanasius  297 

they  might  look  forward  with  confidence  to  gaining 
the  entire  court  over  to  their  side  and  still  further 
consolidating  their  position  in  the  East,  Arius 
returned  in  triumph  to  Alexandria,  where  he  had 
not  set  foot  for  many  years.  But  his  presence  was 
the  signal  for  rerrewed  popular  disturbance.  The 
Catholics  remained  faithful  to  their  Bishop  in  exile 
—St.  Antony  repeatedly  wrote  to  Constantine, 
praying  for  Athanasius'  recall — and  Alexandria  was 
in  tumult.  Constantine  refused  to  reconsider  the 
sentence  of  banishment  on  Athanasius,  but  he 
checked  the  violence  of  the  Meletian  schismatics  by 
banishing  John  Arcaph  from  Alexandria,  and  he 
hurriedly  recalled  -Arius  to  Constantinople.  The 
heresiarch  was  summoned  into  the  presence  of  the 
Emperor,  who  by  this  time  was  once  more  uneasy 
in  his  mind.  Constantine  asked  him  point  blank 
whether  he  held  the  Faith  of  the  Catholic  Church. 
"Can  I  trust  you  ?  "  he  said  ;  "  are  you  really  of  the 
true  Faith  ?  "  Arius  solemnly  affirmed  that  he  was 
and  recited  his  profession  of  belief.  "  Have  you  ab- 
jured the  errors  you  used  to  hold  in  Alexandria?" 
continued  the  Emperor ;  "  will  you  swear  it  before 
God?"  Arius  took  the  required  oath,  and  the  Em- 
peror was  satisfied.  "Go,"  said  he,  "and  if  your 
Faith  be  not  sound,  may  God  punish  you  for  your 
perjury." 

This  strange  scene  is  described  by  Athanasius 
himself,  who  had  been  told  the  details  by  an  eye- 
witness, a  priest  called  Macarius.  According  to  Soc- 
rates, Arms  subscribed  the  declaration  of  the  Faith 
in  Constantine's  presence,  and  the  historian  goes  on 


298  Constantine 

to  recount  the  foolish  legend  that  Arius  wrote  down 
his  real  opinions  on  paper,  which  he  carried  under 
his  arm,  and  so  could  truly  swear  that  he  "  held  "  the 
sentiments  he  had  written.  Arius  then  demanded 
to  be  admitted  to  communion  with  the  Church  at 
Constantinople,  as  public  testimony  to  his  ortho- 
doxy, and  the  Patriarch  Alexander  was  ordered  to 
receive  him.  Alexander  was  a  feeble  old  man  of 
ninety-eight  but  he  did  not  lack  moral  courage. 
He  told  the  Emperor  that  his  conscience  would  not 
allow  him  to  offer  the  sacraments  to  one  whom,  in 
spite  of  the  recent  declarations  of  the  bishops  at  Je- 
rusalem, he  still  regarded  as  an  arch-heretic.  He 
was  not  troubled,  says  Socrates,*  at  the  thought  of 
his  own  deposition;  what  he  feared  was  the  subver- 
sion of  the  principles  of  the  Faith,  of  which  he 
regarded  himself  as  the  constituted  guardian.  Lock- 
ing himself  up  within  his  church — the  Church  of  St. 
Eirene — he  lay  prostrate  before  the  high  altar  and 
remained  there  in  earnest  supplication  for  many  days 
and  nights.  And  the  burden  of  his  prayer  was  that 
if  Arius's  opinions  were  right  he  (Alexander)  might 
not  live  to  see  him  enter  the  church  to  receive  the 
sacrament,  but  that,  if  he  himself  held  the  true  Faith, 
Arius  the  impious  might  be  punished  for  his  impiety. 
The  aged  Bishop  was  still  calling  upon  Heaven  to 
judge  between  Arius  and  himself  and  declare  the 
truth  by  some  manifest  sign,  when  the  time  ap- 
pointed for  Arius  to  be  received  into  communion 
was  at  hand.     Arius  was  on  his  way  to  St.  Eirene. 


*  Socrates, 


Arius  and  Athanasius  299 

He  had  quitted  the  palace — says  Socrates — attended 
by  a  crowd  of  Eusebian  partisans,  and  was  passing 
through  the  centre  of  the  city,  the  observed  of  all 
observers.*  He  was  in  high  spirits  —  as  well  he 
might  be,  for  it  was  the  hour  of  his  supreme  triumph. 
Then  the  blow  fell.  As  he  drew  near  the  Porphyry 
Pillar  in  the  Forum  of  Constantine  he  was  suddenlj^ 
taken  ill.  There  was  a  public  lavatory  close  by  and 
he  withdrew  to  it.  When  he  did  not  return  his 
friends  became  alarmed.  Entering  the  place,  they 
found  him  dead  of  a  violent  haemorrhage,  with  bow- 
els protruding  and  burst  asunder,  like  the  traitor 
Judas  in  the  Field  of  Blood.  One  can  imagine  the 
extraordinary  sensation  which  the  news  must  have 
caused  in  Constantinople  as  it  flew  from  mouth  to 
mouth.  Not  only  the  Patriarch  Alexander,  but  all 
the  orthodox,  attributed  Arius*  sudden  and  awful  end 
to  the  direct  interposition  of  Providence  in  answer 
to  their  prayers.  In  an  instant,  we  are  told,  the 
churches  were  crowded  with  excited  worshippers 
and  were  ablaze  with  lights  as  for  some  happy 
festival. 

On  the  superstitious  mind  of  the  Emperor  so 
tragic  a  death  naturally  made  a  deep  impression. 
He  was,  says  Athanasius,  amazed.  Doubtless  he  be- 
lieved that  Arius  had  deceived  him  and  that  God 
had  answered  his  prayer  to  punish  the  perjurer. 
The  Eusebians  were  "greatly  confounded.  "  Some 
hinted  at  poison,  others  at  magic ;  others  were  con- 
tent to  look  no  further  than  natural  causes.     The 


*  TtepioTCTO'i. 


300  Constantine 

general  verdict  of  antiquity,  however,  was  almost 
unanimous  in  ascribing  the  death  of  Arius  to  the 
anger  of  an  offended  Deity.  It  is  a  view  which  still 
finds  adherents.  Cardinal  Newman,  for  example, 
declares : 

"  Under  the  circumstances  a  thoughtful  mind  cannot 
but  account  this  as  one  of  those  remarkable  interposi- 
tions of  power  by  which  Divine  Providence  urges  on  the 
consciences  of  men  in  the  natural  course  of  things,  what 
their  reason  from  the  first  acknowledges,  that  He  is  not 
indifferent  to  human  conduct.  To  say  that  these  do  not 
fall  within  the  ordinary  course  of  His  governance  is 
merely  to  say  that  they  are  judgments,  which  in  the  com- 
mon meaning  of  the  word  stand  for  events  extraordinary 
and  unexpected." 

But  that  is  a  matter  which  need  not  be  discussed 
here.  What  is  more  important  to  our  purpose  is  to 
point  out  that  the  death  of  Arius  does  not  seem  to 
have  affected  the  state  of  religious  parties  at  Con- 
stantinople. It  did  not  shake  the  position  of  Euse- 
bius  of  Nicomedia,  who  continued  to  enjoy  the 
confidence  of  the  Emperor  and  to  act  as  the 
keeper  of  his  conscience. 


CHAPTER   XV 
constantine's  death  and  character 

IT  seems  incontestable  that  Constantine  degener- 
ated as  he  grew  old-?r.  Certainly  his  popular- 
ity tended  to  decrease.  This,  however,  is  the  usual 
penalty  of  length  of  reign,  and  in  itself  would  not 
count  for  much.  But  one  cannot  overlook  the 
cumulative  evidence  which  is  to  be  found  in  the 
authorities  of  the  period.  Eusebius  himself  admits  * 
that  unscrupulous  men  often  took  advantage  of  the 
piety  and  generosity  of  the  Emperor,  and  many 
of  the  stories  which  he  tells  in  Constantine's  praise 
prepare  us  for  the  charges  which  were  brought 
against  him  by  the  pagan  historians.  For  example, 
Eusebius  declares  that  whenever  the  Emperor  heard 
a  civil  appeal,  he  used  to  make  up  out  of  his  private 
purse  the  amount  in  which  the  losing  party  was 
mulcted,  on  the  extraordinary  principle  that  both 
the  winner  and  the  loser  ought  to  leave  their  sov- 
ereign's presence  equally  satisfied.  Such  a  theory 
would  speedily  beggar  the  richest  treasury.  Aurelius 
Victor  preserves  a  popular  saying  which  shews  the 
general  estimation  in  which  Constantine's  memory 
*De  Vita  Const.,  iv.,  54. 

301 


302  Constantine 

was  held.  Men  used  to  say  that  for  the  first  ten 
years  of  his  reign  he  was  a  model  sovereign  {press- 
tantissimus),  for  the  next  twelve  he  was  a  brigand 
{latro),  and  for  the  last  ten  a  spendthrift  heir,  so 
called  because  of  his  preposterous  extravagance 
{pupillus  ob  profusiones  iimnodicas).  He  was  nick- 
named Trachala,  the  obvious  reference  of  which 
would  be  to  his  short,  thick  neck ;  but  Aurelius 
Victor  appears  to  associate  it  in  some  way  with  the 
meaning  of  "  scofTer  "  {irrisor). 

In  greater  detail  Zosimus*  accuses  Constantine 
of  wasting  the  public  money  on  useless  buildings. 
As  a  pagan,  he  would  naturally  regard  expenditure 
upon  the  construction  of  sumptuous  Christian 
churches  as  money  thrown  away,  but  it  is  perfectly 
certain  that  the  state  of  the  Imperial  resources  did 
not  justify  the  Emperor  in  lavishing  vast  sums  upon 
churches  in  all  parts  of  the  Empire.  If  we  consider 
what  must  have  been  the  capital  cost  of  his  churches 
in  Rome,  Constantinople,  Jerusalem,  Bethlehem, 
Mamre,  and  Antioch, — to  mention  only  a  few  places, 
— and  remember  that  he  was  constantly  urging  the 
bishops  to  keep  building  and  constantly  sending  in- 
structions to  his  vicars  to  make  handsome  subsidies 
out  of  the  State  funds,  we  cannot  but  conclude  that 
the  grumbling  of  the  pagan  tax  payer  was  thoroughly 
well  justified.  Constantine,  indeed,  seems  to  have 
been  as  entet^in  the  matter  of  building  churches  as 
was  in  our  day  the  mad  King  Ludwig  of  Bavaria  in 
the  building  of  royal  castles.  Nor  was  this  the  only 
form  in  which  the  passion  for  bricks  and  mortar—// 

*  ii.,  32,  35. 


Constantine's  Death  and  Character    303 

mal  di  pietra — seized  him.  He  built  a  new  basilica 
even  in  Rome — though  he  rarely  set  foot  in  the 
city.  In  Constantinople  he  must  have  sunk  millions 
of  unproductive  capital,  which  were  far  more  urgently 
required  for  the  development  of  agriculture  and 
commerce.  In  one  epigrammatic  sentence  Zosimus 
sums  up  his  indictment  by  saying  that  Constantine 
thought  to  gain  distinction  by  lavish  outlay.* 
He  also  wasted  the  public  revenue  on  unworthy  and 
useless  favourites,  f  whom  he  taught,  in  the  phrase  of 
Ammianus  Marcellinus,  to  open  their  greedy  jaws 
{fauces  aperuit).  Zosimus  says  bluntly  that  in  his 
opinion  it  was  Constantine  who  sowed  the  seeds  of 
the  ruinous  waste  and  destruction  that  prevailed 
when  he  wrote  his  history,  and  he  roundly  declares 
that  the  Emperor  devoted  his  life  to  his  own  selfish 
pleasures.  % 

There  is  another  character  sketch  of  Constantine 
which  has  survived  for  us,  drawn  by  an  even  more  bit- 
ter enemy  than  the  historian  Zosimus.  It  is  to  be 
found  in  that  amusing  and  extraordinary yVz/ ^Vjr/rzV 
which  bears  the  name  of  The  CcBsars,  from  the 
pen  of  the  Emperor  Julian.  Julian  detested  the 
very  memory  of  Constantine  the  Great,  whom  he 
regarded  as  the  arch-apostate  from  the  ancient  re- 
ligion, and,  thus,  when  he  introduced  him  into  the 
presence  of  the  deities  of  Olympus,  it  was  really  to 
pour  ridicule  and  contempt  upon  his  pretensions. 


*  TTjV  yap  dSGoriav  r/ysiro  q>iXoTmiav  (ii.,  38). 
f  £/?   avac^iovi   xai  dycoq)EXeK    avQ/jooitov;    Tovi  (popovi 
ixdaitaviSv. 

\  Hal  zpvcp^  Tov  (iiov  hcdovi  (ii.,  32). 


304  Constantine 

Julian  describes  him,  at  the  first  mention  of  his 
name,  as  a  man  who  has  seen  considerable  fighting, 
but  has  become  soft  through  self-indulgence  and 
luxury.  *  The  deities  of  heaven  are  represented  as 
sitting  in  conclave,  while  the  deified  Emperors  ap- 
proach to  join  in  their  councils.  Julian  runs  over 
the  list  of  the  great  Emperors,  introducing  them  one 
by  one  and  making  each  sit  by  the  side  of  the  god 
whom  he  most  resembles  in  character.  But  when 
Constantine's  turn  comes,  it  is  found  that  he  has  no 
such  archetype.  No  god  will  own  him  as  his  prot^g6 
or  pupil,  and  so,  after  some  hesitation,  Constantine 
runs  up  to  the  Goddess  of  Luxury  {Tpvcprj),  who  em- 
braces him  as  her  own  darling,  dresses  him  up  in  fine 
clothes,  and,  when  she  has  made  him  smart,  hands 
him  over  to  her  sister,  the  Goddess  of  Extravagance 
{AffGoria).  The  irony  was  bitter,  and  the  shaft  sped 
home. 

The  ascetic  Julian  does  not  spare  his  august  rela- 
tive, whose  title  to  the  epithet  of  "  Great  "  he  would 
have  laughed  to  scorn.  He  declares  that  Constan- 
tine's victories  over  the  barbarians  were  victories 
pour  rire;  he  represents  him  as  a  crazy  being  in  love 
with  the  moon,  like  that  half-witted  Emperor  of  the 
Claudian  house,  who  used  to  stand  at  night  in  the 
colonnades  of  his  palace  and  beg  the  gracious 
Queen  of  the  Sky  to  come  down  to  him  as  she  had 
come  down  to  Endymion.  Julian  puts  into  his 
mouth  a  grotesque  speech  in  which  he  makes  Con- 
stantine claim  to  have  been  a  greater  general  than 

*  avSpa    ovH   exTtoXs/uov  jn-iv,    rjdovi^   Ss    xai   (XTtoXavdsi 
X£ipo7]^£6TBf>ov  (c.  15). 


Constantine's  Death  and  Character    305 

Alexander  because  he  fought  with  Romans,  Ger- 
mans, and  Scythians  and  not  with  mere  Asiatics ; 
greater  than  JuHus  Caesar  or  than  Augustus  be- 
cause he  fought  not  with  bad  men  but  with  good  ; 
and  greater  even  than  Trajan,  because  it  is  a  finer 
thing  to  win  back  what  you  have  lost  than  merely 
to  acquire  something  new.  The  speech  was  received 
with  ridicule  by  the  gods,  and  then  Hermes  point- 
edly asked  Constantine  in  the  Socratic  manner, 
"How  would  you  define  your  ideal?"  {ri  xaXov 
evo/Aiffa?^)  "  To  have  great  riches,"  was  Constan- 
tine's reply,  "  and  to  be  able  to  give  away  lavishly, 
and  satisfy  all  one's  own  desires  and  those  of  one's 
friends."  The  answer  is  significant.  Julian,  hke 
Constantine's  other  critics,  keeps  harping  on  the 
same  string.  It  is  the  luxury,  extravagance,  and 
self-indulgence  of  the  Emperor  that  he  singles  out 
as  the  most  glaring  defect  of  his  character  and  his 
squandering  of  the  Imperial  resources  upon  effemin- 
ate and  un-Roman  pomps,  useless  buildings,  and 
greedy  and  unworthy  favourites.  Silenus,  the  bibu- 
lous buffoon  of  Olympus,  a  moral  rebuke  from 
whose  lips  would  be  received  with  shouts  of  laughter, 
tells  Constantine  with  mock  gravity  that  he  has  led 
a  life  fit  only  for  a  cook  or  a  lady's-maid  {otpOTtoioi 
Koi  KOfjL^AGDTpia),  and  so  the  episode  ends.  We  can- 
not doubt  that  there  was  quite  sufficient  of  truth  in 
these  accusations  to  make  the  sharp-witted  Greeks 
of  the  Empire,  for  whom  Julian  principally  wrote, 
thoroughly  enjoy  his  biting  sarcasms. 

But  we  must  be  careful  not  to  push  too  far  any 
argument   based   upon  this  lampoon   of  Julian    or 


3o6  Constantine 

upon  the  obvious  bias  of  Zosimus.  They  disclose 
to  us,  undoubtedly,  the  least  worthy  side  of  Con- 
stantine's  character,  viz.,  a  tendency  to  effeminacy 
and  luxury,  and  it  is  morally  certain  that  no  one 
who  had  given  way  to  his  worst  passions,  as  Con- 
stantine had  done  in  Rome  in  the  year  326,  could 
ever  be  quite  the  same  man  again.  He  had  on  his 
conscience  the  assassination  of  his  son  and  wife. 
These  were  but  two  out  of  a  terribly  long  list 
of  victims,  which  included  his  father-in-law,  Max- 
imian ;  his  brother-in-law,  Licinius,  and  Licinius's 
young  son,  Licinianus;  another  brother-in-law,  the 
Caesar  Bassus;  and  many  more  besides.  Some  fell 
for  reasons  of  State — "  it  is  only  the  winner,"  as 
Marcus  Antonius  had  said  three  centuries  before, 
"  who  sees  length  of  days  " — but  there  was  also  the 
memory,  even  in  the  case  of  some  of  these,  of 
broken  promises  and  ill-kept  faith,  Constantine's 
Christianity  was  not  of  the  kind  which  permeates 
a  man's  every  action  and  influences  his  entire  life; 
or,  if  that  be  claimed  for  him,  it  must  at  least  be 
admitted  that  there  were  periods  in  his  career  when 
he  suffered  most  desperate  lapses  from  grace. 

On  the  whole  perhaps  the  general  statement  of 
Eutropius,  which  we  have  already  quoted,  that  Con- 
stantine degenerated  somewhat  {aliquantum  mutavif) 
as  he  grew  older,  fairly  meets  the  case.  It  is  worth 
while,  indeed,  to  quote  the  reasoned  estimate  which 
this  excellent  epitomist  gives  of  the  Emperor's 
character.     He  says*: 

"  At  the  opening  of  his  reign  Constantine  was  a  man 

*  Eutropius,  X.,  7. 


Constantine's  Death  and  Character    307 

who  challenged  comparison  with  the  best  of  Princes;  at 
its  close  he  merited  comparison  with  those  of  average 
merit  and  demerit.  Both  mentally  and  physically  his 
good  points  were  beyond  computation  and  conspicuous 
to  all.  He  was  passionately  set  on  winning  military 
glory;  and  in  his  campaigns  good  fortune  attended 
him,  though  not  more  than  his  zealous  industry  de- 
served. .  .  .  He  was  devoted  to  the  arts  of  peace 
and  to  the  humanities,  and  he  sought  to  win  from  all 
men  their  sincere  affection  by  his  generosity  and  his 
tractability,  never  losing  an  opportunity  of  enriching 
his  friends  and  adding  to  their  dignity. 

This  estimate  agrees  in  its  main  particulars  with 
that  of  Aurelius  Victor,  who,  after  speaking  of  his 
wonderful  good  luck  in  war  {intra  belloriun  felicitate) 
and  his  avidity  for  praise,  eulogises  his  exceptional 
versatility  {comviodissimus  rebus  multis),  his  zeal 
for  literature  and  the  arts,  and  the  patient  ear 
which  he  was  always  ready  to  lend  to  any  provin- 
cial deputation  or  complaint. 

We  have  spoken  of  a  marked  degeneracy  observ- 
able in  Constantine  as  his  life  drew  to  a  close. 
Perhaps  the  clearest  proof  of  this  is  to  be  found 
in  a  momentous  step  taken  by  him  in  335,  when 
he  divided  the  sovereignty  of  the  world  among  his 
heirs.  Such  a  partition  meant  the  stultification  of  his 
political  career,  for  he  thus  destroyed  at  a  blow  the 
political  unity  which  he  had  so  laboriously  restored 
out  of  the  wreck  of  the  system  of  Diocletian. 

Eusebius  gives  us  the  truth  in  a  single  sentence 
when  he  says  that  Constantine  treated  the  Empire 
for   the   purposes    of   this    division   as   though  he 


3o8  Constantine 

were  apportioning  his  private  patrimony  among 
members  of  his  own  family.*  He  was  much  more 
concerned  to  make  handsome  provision  for  his  sons 
and  nephews  than  to  secure  the  peace  and  well- 
being  of  his  subjects.  Crispus  had  now  been  dead 
nine  years,  and  the  three  sons  of  Constantine  and 
Fausta  were  still  young,  the  eldest  being  only  just 
twenty-one.  Eusebius  tells  us  how  carefully  they 
had  been  trained.  They  had  been  instructed  in 
all  martial  exercises,  and  special  professors  had 
been  engaged  to  make  them  proficient  in  political 
affairs  and  a  knowledge  of  the  laws.  Their  religious 
education  had  been  personally  supervised  by  their 
father,  who  zealously  sowed  "  the  seeds  of  godly 
reverence  "  and  impressed  upon  them  that  "  a  know- 
ledge of  God,  who  is  the  king  of  all  things,  and 
true  piety  were  more  deserving  of  honour  than 
riches  or  even  than  sovereignty  itself."  Admirable 
precepts  and  Eusebius  declares  again  and  again 
that  this  "  Trinity  of  Princes " — so  he  calls  them 
in  one  place — were  models  of  deportment,  modesty, 
and  piety.  Unfortunately,  we  know  how  emphat- 
ically their  future  careers  belied  their  early  promise 
and  the  eulogies  of  the  Bishop  of  Caesarea.  We  do 
not  doubt  his  statement  that  Constantine  spared  no 
effort  to  educate  them  aright,  but  it  was  most  unfor- 
tunate that  the  remarkable  success  of  their  father's 
political  career  bore  testimony  rather  to  the  efficacy 
of  ambition  without  scruple  than  of  "  godly  rever- 
ence and  true  piety." 

*  oia  riva  iiaxpwav  ov6iav  zoK  avrov  K\r]poSoT(av  cpiX- 
rdroiS. 


Constantine's  Death  and  Character    309 

In  this  new  partition  of  the  Empire  the  Caesar- 
ship  of  the  West,  including  Gaul,  Britain,  and  Spain, 
fell  to  Constantine,  the  eldest  of  the  three  princes. 
To  the  second,  Constantius,  were  assigned  the  rich 
provinces  of  the  East,  including  the  seaboard  pro- 
vinces of  Asia  Minor,  together  with  Syria  and  Egypt. 
Constans,  the  youngest,  received  as  his  share  Italy, 
Illyria,  and  Africa.  But  there  was  still  a  goodly 
heritage  left  over,  sufficient  to  make  a  handsome 
dowry  for  a  favourite  daughter.  This  was  Constan- 
tina,  eldest  of  the  three  daughters  of  Constantine 
and  Fausta,  and  she  had  been  married  to  her 
half-cousin,  Annibalianus,  whose  father  had  been 
the  second  son  of  Constantius  Chlorus  and  Theo- 
dora. To  support  worthily  the  dignity  of  his  new 
position  as  son-in-law  of  Constantine,  the  new  title 
of  Nobilissimiis  was  created  in  his  honour,  and  a 
kingdom  was  made  for  him  out  of  the  provinces  of 
Pontus,  Cappadocia,  and  Lesser  Armenia.  Gibbon 
expresses  surprise  that  Annibalianus,  "  of  the  whole 
series  of  Roman  Princes  in  any  age  of  the  Empire," 
should  have  been  the  only  one  to  bear  the  name  of 
Rex,  and  says  that  he  can  scarcely  admit  its  ac- 
curacy even  on  the  joint  authority  of  Imperial  med- 
als and  contemporary  writers.  The  explanation  is 
surely  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that  Pontus,  Cap- 
padocia, and  Lesser  Armenia  had  for  centuries 
been  accustomed  to  be  ruled  by  a  king  and  that, 
in  creating  a  new  kingdom,  Constantine  simply 
retained  the  title  which  would  be  most  familiar 
to  the  subjects  over  whom  Annibalianus  was  to 
rule.     Annibalianus  was  himself  a  second  son:  his 


3IO  Constantine 

elder  brother,  Dalmatius,  was  raised  to  the  full  title 
of  Caesar  and  given  command  over  the  important 
provinces  of  Thrace  and  Macedonia,  with  Greece 
thrown  in  as  a  make-weight.  The  position  was  a 
very  important  one,  for  it  fell  to  the  Caesar  of 
Thrace  to  guard  the  frontier  chiefly  threatened  by 
the  Goths,  and  we  may  suppose,  therefore,  with 
some  probability  that  Dalmatius — who  had  been 
consul  in  333 — had  given  proof  of  military  talent. 

But  to  what  extent,  we  may  ask,  was  this  a  real 
partition?  In  what  sense  were  the  Caesars  inde- 
pendent of  Constantine  himself?  Eusebius  ex- 
pressly tells  us*  that  each  was  provided  with  a 
complete  establishment  —  §aoik.inr}  napaGmvi), — 
with  a  court,  that  is  to  say,  which  was  in  every 
respect  a  miniature  copy  of  the  court  at  Constan- 
tinople. Each  had  his  own  legions,  bodyguards, 
and  auxiliaries,  with  their  due  complement  of  offi- 
cers chosen,  we  are  told,  by  the  Emperor  for  their 
knowledge  of  war  and  for  their  loyalty  to  their 
chiefs.  It  is  hardly  to  be  supposed  that  Constan- 
tine contemplated  retirement:  had  he  done  so,  he 
would  have  retired  at  the  Tricennalia  which  he 
celebrated  in  the  following  year.  In  all  probability, 
he  did  not  intend  that  his  supreme  power  should 
be  one  whit  abated,  though  he  was  content  to  dele- 
gate his  administrative  authority  to  others  acting 
under  his  strict  supervision.  His  Caesars,  in  short, 
were  really  viceroys,  though  it  is  difficult  to  under- 
stand how  such  an  arrangement  can  have  worked 
harmoniously  without  some  modification  of  the  pow- 

* De  Vita  Const.,  iv.,  51. 


Constantine's  Death  and  Character    311 

ers  of  the  four  Praetorian  praefects.  But  the  division, 
as  we  have  said,. was  not  made  in  the  interests  of  the 
Empire  but  in  the  interests  of  the  Princes  of  the 
Blood,  and  it  was  one  which  could  not  possibly 
endure.  As  soon  as  Constantine  died  chaos  and 
civil  war  were  bound  to  ensue,  and,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  did  ensue.  For  there  is  no  evidence  that  the 
Emperor  made  any  arrangement  as  to  who  should 
succeed  him  on  the  throne.  Constantinople  itself 
lay  in  the  territory  assigned  to  Dalmatius;  yet  it 
was  entirely  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  the  three 
sons  of  Constantine  would  acquiesce  in  leaving  the 
capital  to  the  quiet  possession  of  their  cousin.  The 
division  of  the  Empire,  therefore,  in  335  carried 
with  it  the  early  ripening  seeds  of  civil  war,  blood- 
shed, and  anarchy.  If  the  system  of  Diocletian 
had  proved  unworkable,  because  it  took  no  account 
of  the  natural  desire  of  a  son  to  succeed  his  father, 
the  system  of  Constantine  was  even  worse.  It  was 
absolutely  certain  that  of  the  five  heirs  the  three 
sons  would  combine  against  the  two  cousins,  whom 
they  would  regard  as  interlopers,  and  that  then  the 
three  brothers  would  quarrel  among  themselves, 
until  only  one  was  left. 

Constantine's  reign  was  now  hastening  to  its  end. 
In  336  he  celebrated  his  Tricennalia,  and  his  cour- 
tiers would  not  fail  to  remind  him  that  he  alone,  of 
all  the  successors  of  the  great  Augustus,  had  borne 
such  length  of  days  in  his  left  hand  and  such  glory 
in  his  right.  The  principal  event  of  the  festival 
seems  to  have  been  the  dedication  at  Jerusalem  of 
the  sumptuous  Church  of  the  Anastasis  on  the  site 


312  Constantine 

of  the  Holy  Sepulchre.  As  we  have  seen  in  an- 
other chapter,  the  year  was  one  of  acute  religious 
contention,  rendered  specially  memorable  by  the 
awe-inspiring  death  of  Arius,  and  the  Emperor's 
last  months  of  life  must  have  been  em.bittered  by 
the  thought  that,  despite  all  his  efforts,  religious 
unity  within  the  Church  seemed  as  far  as  ever  from 
realisation. 

Eusebius  tells  us  *  that  Constantine  sought  to  find 
a  remedy  in  the  hot  baths  of  Constantinople  for  the 
disorder  from  which  he  was  suffering,  and  then, 
obtaining  no  relief,  crossed  the  straits  to  Drepanum, 
or  Helenopolis,  as  it  was  now  called  in  honour  of  the 
Emperor's  mother.  There  his  malady  grew  worse 
and  special  prayers  were  offered  for  his  recovery  in 
the  Church  of  Lucian  the  Martyr. 

But  Constantine  had  a  presentiment  that  the  end 
was  near,  and  he  determined,  therefore,  that  the 
time  had  come  for  him  formally  to  become  a 
member  of  the  Christian  Church  and  so  obtain 
purification  for  the  sins  which  he  had  committed  in 
life.  Falling  upon  his  knees  on  the  church  floor, 
he  confessed  his  sins,  received  the  laying-on  of 
hands,  and  so  became  a  catechumen.  Then,  travel- 
ling down  to  the  palace  which  stood  on  the  outskirts 
of  Nicomedia,  the  now  dying  Emperor  summoned 
to  his  side  a  number  of  bishops  and  made  confession 
of  his  faith.  He  told  them  that  the  moment  for 
which  he  had  thirsted  and  prayed  had  come  at  last, 
the  moment  when  he  might  receive  "  the  seal  which 
confers  immortality."     He  had  hoped,  he  said,  to 

*  De  Vita  Const.,  iv.,  6i. 


Constantine's  Death  and  Character    313 

be  baptised  in  Jordan:  God  had  willed  otherwise 
and  he  bowed  to  His  will.  But  he  assured  them 
that  his  resolve  was  not  due  to  any  passing  whim. 
He  had  fully  made  up  his  mind,  that  even  if  recovery 
were  vouchsafed  him,  he  would  set  before  himself 
such  rules  and  conduct  of  life  *  as  would  be  becom- 
ing to  God. 

Eusebius  of  Nicomedia  then  performed  the  rite 
of  baptism.  Constantin^,  clad  in  garments  of 
shining  white,  lay  upon  a  wJiite  bed^_and,  down 
to  the  hour  of  his  death,  refused  to  touch  the 
purple  robes  he  had  worn  in  life.  **  Now,"  he 
exclaimed,  with  all  the  fervour  of  a  neophyte,  "  now 
I  know  in  very  truth  that  I  am  blessed ;  now  I  have 
confidence  that  I  am  a  partaker  of  divine  light." 
When  his  captains  came  to  take  leave  of  him  and 
wept  at  the  thought  of  losing  their  chief,  he  told 
them  that  he  had  the  assurance  of  having  been  found 
worthy  of  eternal  life,  and  that  his  only  anxiety  was 
to  hasten  his  journey  to  God.  He  wished  to  die, 
and  the  wish  was  soon  granted.  Constantine  drew 
his  last  breath  on  May  22d,  337.    ^ 

They  bore  the  body,  enclosed  in  a  golden  coffin 
covered  by  a  purple  pall,  from  Nicomedia  to  Con- 
stantinople and  placed  it  with  great  pomp  in  the 
throne  room  of  the  palace.  There  the  dead  Em- 
peror lay  in  state,  guarded  night  and  day  by  the 
chief  officers  of  the  army  and  the  highest  officials  of 
the  court.  Even  in  death,  says  Eusebius,  he  still 
was  king,  and  all  the  elaborate  bowings  and  genu- 
flexions  with  which  men  had   entered  his  presence 


QEdjuovi  TfSrj  fiiov  QecS       eitovrai  i/navziS  Siarera^ouat. 


314  Constat!  tine 

in  his  lifetime  were  still  observed.  Constantine's 
illness  had  declared  itself  very  suddenly,  and  had 
run  its  course  so  quickly  that  not  one  of  his  sons 
was  at  hand  to  take  up  the  reins  of  administration. 
It  looks  too  as  though  the  Emperor  had  made  no 
preparations  with  a  view  to  his  demise,  but  had  left 
his  three  sons  and  his  two  nephews  to  determine 
among  themselves  who  should  be  supreme.  His 
second  son,  Constantius,  was  the  first  to  arrive 
at  Constantinople,  and  it  was  he  who  arranged 
the  obsequies  of  his  father.  We  are  told  that  the 
Roman  Senate  earnestly  desired  the  body  of  the 
Emperor  to  be  laid  to  rest  in  the  old  capital  and 
sent  deputations  begging  that  this  last  honour 
should  not  be  denied  them.  But  it  had  been  Con- 
stantine's express  wish  to  be  buried  in  the  Church 
of  the  Apostles,  at  Constantinople,  where  he  had 
prepared  a  splendid  sarcophagus,  and  there  can  have 
been  no  hesitation  as  to  the  choice  of  a  resting-place. 
The  body  was  borne  with  an  imposing  military 
pageant  to  the  Church.  Constantius  was  the  chief 
mourner,  but  he  and  his  soldiers  quitted  the 
sanctuary  before  a  word  of  the  burial-service  was 
spoken  or  a  note  of  music  sounded.  He  was  not  a 
baptised  Christian  and,  therefore,  could  not  be 
present  as  the  last  rites  were  performed.  The  great 
Emperor  was  buried  by  the  bishops,  priests,  and 
Christian  populace,  whose  zealous  champion  he  had 
been  and  to  whose  undying  gratitude  he  had  estab- 
lished an  overwhelming  title.  Coins  were  struck 
bearing  on  one  side  the  figure  of  the  Emperor  with 
his  head  closely  veiled,  and,  on  the  other,  represent- 


Constantine's  Death  and  Character    3^5 

ing  Constantine  seated  in  a  four-horse  chariot,  and 
being  drawn  up  to  heaven  by  a  celestial  hand 
stretched  out  to  him  from  the  clouds.  It  was  a 
device  which  could  offend  neither  Christian  nor 
pagan.  To  the  former  it  would  recall  the  trium- 
phant ascent  of  Elijah ;  the  latter  would  regard  it 
as  the  token  of  a  natural  apotheosis.  The  hand 
might  equally  well  be  the  hand  of  God  or  of 
Jupiter. 

Such  is  the  story  of  the  Emperor's  baptism, 
death,  and  burial  as  recounted  by  Eusebius.  There 
is,  however,  one  important  detail  to  be  added  and 
one  important  question  to  be  asked.  Constantine 
was  baptised  by  an  Arian  bishop.  To  the  Athana- 
sian  party  and  to  the  ecclesiastical  historians  of 
succeeding  ages  this  was  a  lamentable  circumstance 
which  greatly  exercised  and  troubled  their  minds. 
It  sorely  grieved  them  to  think  that  their  patrdn 
Constantine  should  have  been  admitted  into  the 
communion  of  the  faithful  by  the  dangerous  heretic 
who  had  been  the  bitterest  enemy  of  their  idol, 
Athanasius.  But  with  a  forbearance  to  which  they 
were  usually  strangers,  they  agreed  to  pass  over  the 
episode  in  comparative  silence  and  remember  not 
the  shortcomings  but  the  virtues  of  the  first  Christian 
Emperor. 

It  still  remains  to  be  asked  why  Constantine  did 
not  formally  enter  the  Church  until  he  was  on  his 
death-bed.  There  had  been  no  lukewarmness  about 
his  Christianity.  He  was  not  one  to  be  afiflicted 
with  doubts.  There  had  never  been  any  danger  of 
his  reverting  to  paganism.     In  the  last  few  years, 


3i6  Constantine 

indeed,  he  had  been  distracted  by  the  clamour  of 
Arians  and  Athanasians,  and  his  was  a  mind  upon 
which  a  clever  and  acute  ecclesiastic,  who  enjoyed 
his  confidence,  could  play  at  will.  When  Hosius  of 
Cordova  stood  by  his  side  he  was  the  champion  of 
the  Catholic  party  ;  when  Hosius  fell  from  favour 
and  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia  took  his  place  Constan- 
tine  strongly  inclined  to  the  Arian  side.  But  in 
neither  case  was  there  any  doubt  of  his  Christianity. 
Why  then  did  he  not  become  a  member  of  the 
Church?  Was  it  because  the  rite  of  baptism 
conferred  immediate  forgiveness  of  sin  and  therefore 
a  death-bed  baptism  infallibly  opened  the  gate  of 
Heaven?  By  putting  off  entrance  into  the  Church 
until  the  hour  had  come  after  which  it  was  hardly 
possible  to  commit  sin,  did  Constantine  count  upon 
making  sure  of  eternal  happiness  ?  Such  is  the 
motive  assigned  by  some  historians.  It  certainly  is 
not  a  lofty  one.  Yet  the  idea  may  very  well  have 
presented  itself  to  Constantine's  mind  and  the 
impression  left  by  Eusebius's  narrative  is  that  Con- 
stantine only  determined  to  receive  the  rite  because 
he  felt  his  end  to  be  near  and  dared  not  put  it  off 
any  longer.  On  the  other  hand,  Constantine's 
statement  that  his  ambition  had  been  to  be  baptised 
in  Jordan  is  rather  against  this  theory.  Possibly, 
too,  he  was  to  some  degree  influenced  by  the  wish 
not  to  alienate  entirely  the  support  of  his  pagan 
subjects,  especially  the  more  fanatical,  of  them,  who 
would  bitterly  resent  their  Chief  Pontiff  becoming  a 
baptised  member  of  the  Christian  Church.  No  one 
can  say,  but  we  shall  be  the  better  able  to  form  an 


Constantine's  Death  and  Character    317 

opinion    if    we    look    a   little  more  closely  at  the 
religious  life  and  policy  of  Constantine. 

j  Eusebius  represents  the  daily  life  of  the  Emperor 
on  its  religious  side  to  have  been  almost  that  of  a 
irhnkorj^l-^  saint,  Every  day,  we  are  told,  he  used 
to  retire  for  private  meditation  and  prayer.  He  de- 
lighted in  delivering  sermons  and  addresses  to  his 
courtiers,  Bible  in  hand.  He  would  begin  by  expos- 
ing the  errors  of  polytheism  and  by  proving  the 
superstition  of  the  Gentiles  to  be  a  mere  fraud  and 
cloak  for  impiety,  and  would  then  expound  his 
theory  of  the  sole  sovereignty  of  God,  the  workings 
of  Providence,  and  the  sureness  of  the  Judgment,  in- 
variably concluding  with  his  favourite  moral  that 
God  had  given  to  him  the  sovereignty  of  the  whole 
world.  Such  a  discourse  could  not  possibly  be  short, 
but  Constantine  liked  his  religious  exercises  long. 
He  once  insisted  on  standing  throughout  the  reading 
of  an  elaborate  disquisition  by  Eusebius  himself, 
who  evidently  tired  of  the  exertion  and  begged  that 
the  Emperor  would  not  fatigue  himself  further.  But 
Constantine  was  resolved  to  hear  it  out,  and  the  cour- 
tier Bishop,  while  profoundly  flattered  at  the  com- 
pliment, ruefully  admitted  that  the  thesis  was  very 
long.  Probably  the  courtiers  found  it  interminable. 
But  it  was  their  duty  to  listen,  applaud,  and  appear 
duly  impressed  when,  for  example,  Constantine 
traced  on  the  ground  the  dimensions  of  a  cofifin, 
and  solemnly  warned  them  against  covetousness  by 
the  reminder  that  six  feet  of  earth  was  the  utmost 
they  could  hope  to  enjoy  after  death,  and  they  might 
not  even  get  so  much  as  that  if  burial  were  refused 


3i8  Constantine 

them  or  they  were  burnt  or  lost  at  sea.  No  one  ever 
accused  Constantine  of  covetousness  ;  his  failing  was 
reckless  extravagance,  and  we  fear  he  is  to  be  num- 
bered among  those  who 

"  Compound  for  sins  they  are  inclined  to 
By  damning  those  they  have  no  mind  to." 

Constantine  ordered  all  the  bishops  throughout 
the  Empire  to  offer  up  daily  prayers  for  him;  he  had 
coins  struck  at  the  Imperial  mints  which  depicted 
him  with  eyes  uplifted  to  heaven,  and  he  had  pictures 
of  himself — probably  in  mosaic— set  over  the  gates 
of  his  palaces,  in  which  he  was  seen  standing  erect 
with  hands  in  the  attitude  of  prayer.  For  our  part 
we  like  better  the  chapters  in  which  Eusebius  de- 
scribes the  Emperor's  open-handed  generosity  to  the 
poor  and  needy  and  to  the  orphan  and  the  widow, 
extols  the  kind-heartedness  which  was  carried  to  such 
a  length  as  to  raise  the  question  whether  such  cle- 
mency was  not  excessive,  and  claims  that  his  most 
distinctive  and  characteristic  virtue  was  the  love  of 
his  fellow-men,  his  q)ikavdpW7iia,  a  virtue  which  the 
typical  Roman  rarely  developed  to  his  full  capacity. 

Constantine's  whole  career  testified  to  the  zeal 
with  which  he  had  embraced  Christianity.  We  have 
seen  the  enthusiasm  with  which  he  set  to  work  to 
build  churches  throughout  the  Empire.  In  Rome 
there  are  ascribed  to  him  the  Church  of  Saint  Agnes, 
the  Church  of  St.  John  Lateran,  and  another  which 
stood  on  part  of  the  site  of  the  present  St.  Peter's. 
In  Constantinople  he  built  the  Churches  of  the 
Apostles,  St.  Eirene,  and  St.  Sophia,     In  Jerusalem 


Constantine's  Death  and  Character    319 

he  built  the  Church  of  the  Anastasis  as  the  crowning 
memorial  of  his  thirty  years  of  reign,  and  in  Antioch, 
Nicomedia,  and  a  score  of  other  cities  his  purse  was 
constantly  at  the  service  of  the  Faith.  The  building  of 
churches  was  a  passion  with  him,  and  he  also  took  care 
that  they  were  provided  with  the  Scriptures.  Euse- 
bius*  gives  the  text  of  a  letter  written  to  him  by  the 
Emperor  ordering  fifty  copies  of  the  Scriptures  to  be 
executed  without  delay.  Constantine  published  an 
edict  commanding  that  the  Lord's  day  should  be 
scrupulously  observed  and  honoured,  and  that  every 
facility  should  be  given  to  Christian  soldiers  to  enable 
them  to  attend  the  services.  Even  his  pagan  soldiers 
were  to  keep  that  day  holy  by  offering  up  a  prayer 
to  the  "  King  of  Heaven,"  in  which  they  addressed 
him  as  the  "  Giver  of  Victory,  their  Preserver,  Guard- 
ian, and  Helper." 

"Thee  alone  we  know  to  be  God;  Thee  alone  we 
recognise  as  King  ;  Thee  we  invoke  as  Helper  ;  from 
Thee  we  have  gained  our  victories  ;  through  Thee  we 
are  superior  to  our  enemies.  To  Thee  we  give  thanks 
for  the  benefits  we  now  enjoy  ;  from  Thee  we  look  for 
our  benefits  to  come.  All  of  us  are  Thy  suppliants:  and 
we  pray  that  Thou  wilt  guard  our  King  Constantine 
and  his  pious  sons  long,  long  to  reign  over  us  in  safety 
and  victory." 

No  pagan  soldier  could  be  offended  at  being 
required  to  ofier  this  prayer  to  the  King  of  Heaven. 
If  he  were  sincere  in  his  faith  he  would  hope  that 
it  might  reach  the  throne  of  Jupiter;  Constantine 

*  De  Vita  Const.,  iv.,  36. 


320  Constantine 

evidently  expected  that,  as  it  was  addressed  to  the 
King  of  Heaven,  it  would  be  intercepted  in  mid- 
course  and  wafted  to  the  throne  of  God.  He  was 
at  any  rate  determined  that  no  soldier  of  his,  whether 
pagan  or  Christian,  should  wear  on  his  shield  any  other 
sign  than  that  of  the  Cross — "  the  salutary  trophy." 
But  what  was  Constantine's  policy  towards  the 
old  religion  ?  Let  us  look  first  at  the  explicit  state- 
ments of  Eusebius.  He  says  in  one  place*  that 
"  the  doors  of  idolatry  were  shut  throughout  the 
whole  Roman  Empire  for  both  laity  and  military 
alike,  and  every  form  of  sacrifice  was  forbidden." 
In  another  passage  f  he  says  that  edicts  were  is- 
sued "  forbidding  sacrifice  to  idols,  the  mischievous 
practice  of  divination,  the  putting  up  of  wooden 
images,  the  observance  of  secret  rites,  and  the  pollu- 
tion of  cities  by  the  sanguinary  combats  of  gladia- 
tors." In  a  third  passage :{:  he  speaks  of  Constantine's 
having  "  utterly  destroyed  polytheism  in  all  its 
variety  of  foolishness."  Eusebius  also  tells  us  that 
Constantine  was  careful  to  choose,  whenever  pos- 
sible. Christian  governors  for  the  provinces,  while  he 
forbade  those  with  Hellenistic,  i.  c,  pagan,  sympa- 
thies to  offer  sacrifice.  He  also  ordered  that  the 
synodal  decrees  of  bishops  should  not  be  interfered 
with  by  the  provincial  authorities,  for,  adds  Eusebius, 
he  considered  a  priest  of  God  to  be  more  entitled 
to  honour  than  a  judge.  The  same  authority  ex- 
pressly states  §  that  Constantinople  was  kept  per- 

* De  Vita  Const.,  iv.,  23.  \ Ibid.,  c,  25. 

X  fiovov  re  nddav   TtoXvQeov  nXdvijv  HaQsAovroi  {ibid.,  c. 
75).  %Ibid.,c.2-]. 


Constantine's  Death  and  Character    321 

fectly  free  from  idolatry  in  every  shape  and  form, 
and  was  never  polluted  with  the  blood  or  smoke 
of  sacrifice,  and  the  general  impression  which  he 
leaves  upon  the  reader's  mind  is  that  paganism  was 
proscribed  and  the  practice  of  the  old  religion  de- 
clared to  be  a  crime. 

It  is  evident,  however,  that  this  was  not  the  case. 
Eusebius,  as  usual,  supplies  the  corrective  to  his 
own  exaggerations.  He  quotes,  for  example,  in  full 
the  text  of  an  edict  which  Constantine  addressed  to 
the  governors  of  the  East,  wherein  it  is  unequi- 
vocally laid  down  that  complete  religious  freedom  is 
to  be  the  standing  rule  throughout  the  Empire. 
He  beseeches  all  his  subjects  to  become  Christians, 
but  he  will  not  compel  them.  "  Let  no  one  inter- 
fere with  his  neighbour.  Let  each  man  do  what  his 
soul  desires."  *  This  edict  was  issued  after  the  over- 
throw of  Licinius  and  is  remarkable  chiefly  for  the 
fervent  profession  of  Christianity  which  the  Emperor 
makes  in  it.  "  I  am  most  firmly  convinced,"  he 
says,  "that  I  owe  to  the  most  High  God  my  whole 
soul,  my  every  breath,  my  most  secret  and  inmost 
thoughts."  And  then  he  continues :  "  Therefore,  I 
have  dedicated  my  soul  to  Thee,  in  pure  blend  of 
love  and  fear.f  For  I  truly  adore  Thy  name,  while 
I  reverence  Thy  power  which  Thou  hast  manifested 
by  many  proofs  and  made  my  faith  the  surer." 

But  did  Constantine  maintain  this  attitude  of  strict 


*  nrjSeU  v6v  'izEpov  Ttapevox^siToo  :  exadTo?  uTtsp  tf  ipvxtf 
PovXezai  Tovronai  Ttpavveza)  {De  Vita  Const.,  ii.,  56). 

f  did  Tavrd  rot  dvsQrjKd  dot  rjjv  ejuavrov  ipvxv^  epoort 
Hai  qiolioa  uaBapc^i  dvaHpaOsidav  (Hid.,  c.  55). 


322  Constantine 

neutrality,  only  tempered  by  ardent  prayer  that  his 
pagan  subjects  might  be  brought  to  a  knowledge  of 
the  truth?  In  its  entirety  he  certainly  did  not,  and 
it  was  impossible  that  so  zealous  a  convert  should. 
When  the  smiles  of  Imperial  favour  were  withdrawn 
from  the  old  religion  it  was  inevitable  that  the  Im- 
perial arm  which  protected  it  should  grow  slack  in 
its  defence.  Yet,  throughout  his  reign  Constantine 
never  forgot  that  the  majority  of  his  subjects  were 
still  pagan,  despite  the  hosts  of  conversions  which 
followed  his  own,  and  he  took  care  not  to  press  too 
hardly  upon  them  and  not  to  goad  the  more  fanatical 
upholders  of  the  old  regime  to  the  recklessness  of 
despair.  We  have  seen  how  the  Emperor  refused 
to  witness  the  procession  of  the  Knights  in  Rome 
at  the  time  of  his  Vicennalia.  He  also  forbade  his 
statue  or  image  to  be  placed  in  a  pagan  temple. 
But  he,  nevertheless,  retained  through  life  the  oflfice 
of  Pontifex  Maximiis,  and  as  such  continued  to  be 
supreme  head  of  the  pagan  religion.  Nor  was  it 
until  the  time  of  Gratian  fifty  years  afterwards  that 
this  title — no  doubt  in  deference  to  the  repeated 
representations  of  the  bishops — was  dropped  by 
the  Christian  Emperors.  Some  historians  have  ex- 
pressed surprise  that  so  enthusiastic  a  convert  to 
Christianity  should  have  been  willing  to  remain 
Chief  Pontiff;  a  few  have  even  been  genuinely  con- 
cerned to  explain  and  excuse  his  conduct.  But  Con- 
stantine was  statesman  as  well  as  convert.  If  he 
had  resigned  the  Chief  Pontificate  that  office  might 
conceivably  have  passed  into  dangerous  hands.  By 
holding  it  as  an  absolute  sinecure,  by  never  per- 


Constantine's  Death  and  Character    2,^2) 

forming  its  ceremonial  duties  or  wearing  its  dis- 
tinctive robes,  Constantine  did  far  more  to  destroy 
its  influence  than  if  he  had  resigned  it.  Imperial 
titles,  moreover,  sometimes  signify  very  little. 
Every  one  knows  the  gibe  of  Voltaire  at  the  Holy 
Roman  Empire  which  was  neither  holy,  nor  Roman, 
nor  an  Empire.  For  centuries  after  the  loss  of 
Calais  the  lilies  of  France  were  quartered  on  the 
Royal  arms  of  Great  Britain,  and  the  coins  of  our 
Protestant  monarch  still  bear  the  F.  D.  bestowed 
by  the  Pope  upon  the  eighth  Henry.  The  King  of 
Portugal  is  still  Lord  of  All  the  Indies.  It  is  not 
titles  that  count  but  actions.  Whether  or  not  Con- 
stantine's ecclesiastical  friends  were  troubled  by  his 
retaining  the  title,  we  may  be  sure  the  question 
never  troubled  the  Emperor  himself,  as  the  title 
of  "  Supreme  Head  of  the  English  Church "  is 
said  to  have  troubled  the  scrupulous  conscience  of 
James  II.  after  he  became  a  convert  to  Rome.  But 
in  the  latter  case  the  practical  advantages  of  reten- 
tion outweighed  the  shock  to  consistency  in  the 
eyes  of  those  whom  James  consulted. 

Constantine  helped  forward  the  conversion  of  the 
Empire  with  true  statesmanlike  caution,  desirous 
above  all  things  to  avoid  political  disturbance.  He 
abolished  outright,  we  are  told,  certain  of  the  more 
offensive  and  degraded  pagan  rites,  to  which  it  was 
possible  to  take  grave  exception  on  the  score  of 
decency  and  morality.  For  example,  some  Phoeni- 
cian temples  at  Heliopolis  and  Aphaca,  where  the 
worship  of  Venus  was  attended  with  shameless 
prostitution,  were  ordered  to  be  pulled  down.     The 


324  Constantine 

same  fate  befell  a  temple  of  yEsculapius  at  ^gaeae, 
and  a  college  of  effeminate  priests  in  Egypt,  asso- 
ciated with  the  worship  of  the  Nile,  was  disbanded 
and  its  members,  according  to  Eusebius,  were  all  put 
to  death.  But  these  are  the  only  specific  examples 
of  repression  instanced  by  Eusebius,*  and  they 
assuredly  do  not  suggest  any  general  proscription  of 
paganism.  Eusebius  is  notoriously  untrustworthy. 
He  distinctly  says  that  Constantine  determined  to 
purify  his  new  capital  of  all  idolatry,  so  that  there 
should  not  be  found  within  its  w^alls  either  statue  or 
altar  of  any  false  god.  Yet  we  know  that  the  phi- 
losopher Sopater  was  present  at  the  ceremony  of 
dedication  and  that  he  enjoyed  for  a  time  the  high 
favour  of  the  Emperor,  though  he  was  subsequently 
put  to  death  on  the  accusation  of  the  praefect  Ab- 
lavius,  who  charged  him  with  delaying  the  arrival 
of  the  Egyptian  corn  ships  by  his  magical  arts.  We 
know  too  that  there  were  temples  of  Cybele  and 
Fortuna  in  the  city,  and  Zosimus  expressly  declares 
that  the  Emperor  constructed  a  temple  and  precincts 
for  the  Dioscuri,  Castor  and  Pollux.  At  Rome  the 
temple  of  Concord  was  rebuilt  towards  the  close  of 
his  reign,  and  inscriptions  shew  that  the  consuls  of 
the  year  still  dedicated  without  hindrance  altars  to 
their  favourite  deities.  The  famous  altar  of  Victory, 
around  which  a  furious  controversy  was  to  rage  in 
the  reign  of  Valentinian,  at  the  close  of  the  fourth 
century,  still  stood  in  the  Roman  Curia,  and  in  the 
two  great  centres  of  Eastern  Christianity,  Antioch 
and  Alexandria,  the  worship  of  Apollo  and  Serapis 

* De  Vita  Const,,  iii.,  48,  iv.,  25. 


COPPER  DENARIUS  OF  CONSTANTINE  THE  GREAT. 
SHOWING  THE  LABARUM. 


DOUBLE  SOLIDUS  OF  CONSTANTIUS  II. 
WITH  THE  LABARUM. 


DOUBLE  SOLIDUS  OF  DIOCLETIAN 


SOLIDUS  OF  MAXIMIAN. 


Constan tine's  Death  and  Character    325 

continued    without     intermission     in     their    world- 
renowned  temples. 

No  doubt  in  districts  where  the  Christians  were 
in  a  marked  majority  and  paganism  found  only- 
lukewarm  adherents,  there  was  occasional  violence 
shewn  to  the  old  temples  and  statues,  especially 
if  the  governor  happened  to  be  a  Christian.  Orna- 
ments might  be  stolen,  treasures  ransacked,  and  prob- 
ably few  questions  were  asked.  Christianity  had 
been  persecuted  so  long  and  so  savagely  that  when 
the  day  of  revenge  came,  the  temptation  was  too 
strong  for  human  frailty  to  resist,  and  as  long  as  there 
was  no  serious  civil  disturbance  the  authorities  prob- 
ably made  light  of  the  occurrence.  Paganism  was  a 
dying  creed  ;  where  it  had  to  struggle  hard  to  keep 
its  head  above  water,  the  end  was  not  long  delayed. 
The  case  would  be  different  where  the  temples  were 
possessed  of  great  wealth  and  where  there  were 
powerful  priestly  corporations  to  defend  their 
vested  interests.  There  can  be  no  greater  mistake 
than  to  suppose  that  Constantine  declared  war  on 
the  old  religion.  He  did  nothing  of  the  kind. 
When  he  showered  favours  on  the  Christian  clergy, 
what  he  did  in  effect  was  merely  to  raise  them  to 
the  same  status  as  that  already  enjoyed  by  the 
pagan  priesthood.  He  did  not  take  away  the  privi- 
leges of  the  colleges  :  and  inscriptions  have  been 
found  which  tend  to  shew  that  he  allowed  new  col- 
leges to  be  founded  which  bore  his  name.  In  short, 
to  the  old  State-established  and  State-endowed  re- 
ligion he  added  another,  that  of  Christianity,  reserv- 
ing his  special  favour  for  the  new  but  not  actively 


326  Constantine 

repressing  the  ancient.  He  had  hoped  to  convert 
the  world  by  his  own  example  ;  but,  though  he  failed 
in  this,  he  never  contemplated  a  resort  to  violence. 
His  religious  policy,  throughout  his  reign,  may  fairly 
be  described  as  one  of  toleration.  That  is  what 
Symmachus  meant  when  he  said,  half  a  century 
later,  that  Constantine  had  belonged  to  both  re- 
ligions. 

There  was  one  exception  to  this  rule.  Constan- 
tine came  down  with  a  heavy  hand  on  secret  divina- 
tion and  the  practice  of  magic  and  the  black  arts. 
But  other  Emperors  before  him  had  done  the  same. 
Emperors  whose  loyalty  to  the  Roman  religion  had 
never  been  questioned — for  these  mysterious  rites 
formed  no  part  of  the  established  worship.  They 
might  be  employed  to  the  harm  of  the  State ;  they 
might  portend  danger  to  the  Emperor's  life  and 
throne.  It  was  not  for  private  individuals  to  experi- 
ment with  and  let  loose  the  powers  of  darkness,  for,  as 
a  rule,  beneficent  deities  had  no  part  or  lot  in  these 
dark  mysteries.  As  a  Christian,  Constantine  would 
have  a  double  satisfaction  in  issuing  edicts  against 
the  wonder-working  charlatans  who  abounded  in  the 
great  cities ;  but  the  point  is  that  in  attacking 
them  he  was  not  technically  attacking  the  old  State 
religion.  The  public  and  official  haruspices  were 
not  interfered  with  ;  if  any  devout  pagan  still  de- 
sired to  consult  an  oracle,  no  obstacle  was  placed  in 
his  way  ;  and,  as  a  tribute  to  the  universal  supersti- 
tion of  the  age  from  which  he  himself  was  not  free, 
even  private  divination  was  permitted  when  the  ob- 
ject was  a  good  one,  such  as  the  restoration  of  a  sick 


Constantine's  Death  and  Character    327 

person  to  health  or  the  protection  of  crops  against 
hail.  But  it  is  evident  that  Constantine  and  his 
bishops  were  far  more  apprehensive  of  evil  from  the 
unchaining  of  the  Devil  than  expectant  of  good  from 
the  favour  of  the  ministers  of  grace.  They  were 
terrified  of  the  one:  they  indulged  but  a  pious  hope 
of  the  other.  Nor  was  the  Emperor  successful  in 
stamping  out  the  private  thaumaturgist.  Human 
nature  was  too  strong  for  him.  Sileat  perpetuo  divin- 
andi  ciiriositas,  ordered  one  of  his  successors  in 
358.  But  the  curiosity  to  divine  the  future  con- 
tinued to  defy  both  civil  and  ecclesiastical  law. 

A  much  bolder  act,  however,  than  the  closing  of  a 
few  temples  on  the  score  of  public  decency  or  the 
forbidding  of  private  divination  was  the  edict  of  325, 
in  which  Constantine  ordered  the  abolition  of  the 
gladiatorial  shows.  "  Such  blood-stained  specta- 
cles," he  said,  "in  the  midst  of  civil  peace  and  do- 
mestic quiet  are  repugnant  to  our  taste."  He 
ordained,  therefore,  that  in  future  all  criminals  who 
were  usually  condemned  to  be  gladiators  should  be 
sent  to  work  in  the  mines,  that  they  might  expiate 
their  offences  without  shedding  of  blood.  But  it 
was  one  thing  to  issue  an  edict  and  another  to 
enforce  it.  Whether  Constantine  insisted  on  the 
observance  of  this  particular  edict,  we  cannot  say, 
but  his  successors  certainly  did  not,  for  the  glad- 
iatorial spectacles  at  Rome  were  in  full  swing  in  the 
days  of  Symmachus,  who  ransacked  the  world  for 
good  swordsmen  and  strange  animals.  The  ''cruenta 
spectacula,"'  as  Constantine  called  them,  were  not 
finally  abolished  until  the  reign  of  Honorius. 


328  Constantine 

To  sum  up.  The  only  reasonable  view  to  take  of 
the  religious  character  of  Constantine  (is  that  he  was 
a  sincere  and  convinced  Christian.  'This  is  borne 
out  alike  by  his  passionate  professions  of  faith  and 
by  the  clear  testimony  of  his  actions.  There  are,  it 
is  true,  many  historians  who  hold  that  he  was  really 
indifferent  to  religion,  and  others  who  credit  him 
with  an  easy  capacity  for  finding  truth  in  all  religions 
alike.  Professor  Bury,  for  example,  says  that  "  the 
evidence  seems  to  shew  that  his  religion  was  a 
syncretistic  monotheism  ;  that  he  was  content  to  see 
the  deity  in  the  Sun,  in  Mithras,  or  in  the  God  of 
the  Hebrews."  Such  a  description  would  suit  the 
character  of  Constantius  Chlorus  perfectly,  and 
it  may  very  well  have  suited  Constantine  himself 
before  the  overthrow  of  Maxentius.  There  is  a 
passage  in  the  Ninth  Panegyric  which  seems  to  have 
been  uttered  by  one  holding  these  views,  and  it  is 
worth  quotation,  for  it  is  an  invocation  to  the  su- 
preme deity  to  bless  the  Emperor  Constantine.  It 
runs  as  follows: 

Wherefore  we  pray  and  beseech  thee  to  keep  our 
Prince  safe  for  all  eternity,  thee,  the  supreme  creator  of 
all  things,  whose  names  are  as  manifold  as  it  has  been 
thy  will  that  nations  should  have  tongues.  We  cannot 
tell  by  what  title  it  is  thy  pleasure  that  we  should  address 
thee,  whether  thou  art  a  divine  force  and  mind  permeat- 
ing the  whole  world  and  mingled  with  all  the  elements, 
and  moving  of  thine  own  motive  power  without  impulse 
from  without,  or  whether  thou  art  some  Power  above  all 
Heaven  who  lookest  down  upon  this  thy  handiwork  from 
some  loftier  arch  of  Nature. 


Constantine's  Death  and  Character    329 

Such  a  deity  may  have  satisfied  the  philosophers, 
but  it  certainly  was  not  the  deity  whom  Constantine 
worshipped  throughout  his  reign.  Had  he  been  in- 
different to  religion,  or  indifferent  to  Christianity, 
had  he  even  been  anxious  only  to  hold  the  balance 
between  the  rival  creeds,  he  would  never  have  sur- 
rounded himself  by  episcopal  advisers ;  never  have 
set  his  hand  to  such  edicts  as  those  we  have  quoted  ; 
never  have  abolished  the  use  of  the  cross  for  the 
execution  of  criminals  or  have  forbidden  Jews  to 
own  Christian  slaves ;  never  have  called  the  whole 
world  time  and  again  to  witness  his  zeal  for  Christ ; 
never  have  lavished  the  resources  of  the  Empire 
upon  the  building  of  sumptuous  churches;  never 
have  listened  with  such  extraordinary  forbearance 
to  the  wranglings  of  the  Donatists  and  the  subtleties 
of  Arians  and  Athanasians ;  never  have  summoned 
or  presided  at  the  Council  of  Nicaea ;  and  certainly 
never  have  made  the  welfare  of  non-Roman  Christ- 
ians the  subject  of  entreaty  with  the  King  of  Persia; 
Constantine  was  prone  to  superstitiom  He  was 
grossly  material  in  his  rehgious  views,  and  his  own 
worldly  success  remained  still  in  his  eyes  the  crown- 
ing proof  of  the  Christian  verities.  But  the  sincerity 
of  his  convictions  is  none  the  less  apparent,  and 
even  the  atrocious  crimes  with  which  he  sullied  his 
fair  fame  cannot  rob  him  of  the  name  of  Christian. 
It  was  a  name,  says  St.  Augustine,*  in  which  he 
manifestly  delighted  to  boast,  mindful  of  the  hope 
which  he  reposed  in  Christ  {Plane  Christiano  nomine 
gloriosus,  memor  spei  quam  gerebat  in  Christo). 

*  Contra  Lit.  Petil.,  ii.,  205. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE    EMPIRE    AND   CHRISTIANITY 

THE  reorganisation  of  the  Empire,  begun  by  Dio- 
cletian, had  been  continued  along  the  same 
lines  by  Constantine  the  Great.  There  were  still 
further  developments  under  their  successors,  but 
these  two  were  the  real  founders  of  the  Imperial 
system  which  was  to  subsist  in  the  eastern  half  of 
the  Empire  for  more  than  eleven  hundred  years. 
In  other  words,  Diocletian  and  Constantine  gave  the 
Empire,  if  not  a  new  lease  of  life,  at  least  a  new  im- 
petus and  a  new  start,  and  we  may  here  present  a 
brief  sketch  of  the  reforms  which  they  introduced 
into  practically  every  sphere  of  governmental  activity. 
We  have  already  seen  how  profoundly  changed 
was  the  position  of  the  Emperor  himself.  He  was 
no  longer  essentially  a  Roman  Imperator,  a  supreme 
War-Lord,  a  soldier  Chief  of  State.  He  had  become 
a  King  in  a  palace,  secluded  from  the  gaze  of  the 
vulgar,  surrounded  with  all  the  attributes  and  orna- 
ments of  an  eastern  monarch,  and  robed  in  gorgeous 
vestments  stifT  with  gold  and  jewels.  Men  were 
taught  to  speak  and  think  of  him  as  superhuman 
and  sacrosanct,  to  approach  him  with  genuflexion 
330 


The  Empire  and  Christianity      331 

and  adoration,  to  regard  every  office,  however 
menial,  attached  to  his  person,  as  sacred.  In  speak- 
ing of  the  Emperor  language  was  strained  to  the 
pitch  of  the  ridiculous  ;  flattery  became  so  grotesque 
that  it  must  have  ceased  to  flatter.  When  Nazarius, 
for  example,  speaks  of  the  Emperor's  heart  as  "  the 
stupendous  shrine  of  mighty  virtues"  {ingentiuni 
virtutum  stiipenda  penetralia),  and  such  language  as 
this  became  the  recognised  mode  of  addressing  the 
reigning  Sovereign,  we  see  how  far  we  have  travelled 
not  only  from  Republican  simplicity,  but  even  from 
the  times  of  Domitian.  The  Emperor,  in  brief,  was 
absolute  monarch,  autocrat  of  the  entire  Roman 
world,  and  his  will  and  nod  were  law. 

He  stood  at  the  head  of  a  hierarchy  of  court  and 
administrative  ofificials,  most  minutely  organised 
from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  For  purposes  of 
Imperial  administration,  those  next  to  the  throne 
were  the  four  Praetorian  praefects,  each  one  supreme, 
under  the  Emperor,  in  his  quarter  of  the  world. 
The  Empire  had  been  divided  by  Diocletian  into 
twelve  dioceses  and  these  again  into  ninety-six 
provinces;  Constantine  accepted  this  division  but 
apportioned  the  twelve  dioceses  into  four  praefect- 
ures,  those  of  the  Orient,  Illyria,  Italy,  and  Gaul. 
The  four  Praetorian  praefects  stood  in  relation  to  the 
Emperor— so  Eusebius  tells  us— as  God  the  Son 
stood  in  relation  to  God  the  Father.  They  wore— 
though  not  perhaps  in  the  days  of  Constantine — 
robes  of  purple  reaching  to  the  knee ;  they  rode  in 
lofty  chariots,  and  among  the  insignia  of  their  office 
were  a  colossal  silver  inkstand  and  gold  pen-cases  of 


332  Constantine 

a  hundred  pounds  in  weight.  Their  functions  were 
practically  unlimited,  save  for  the  all-important  excep- 
tion that  they  exercised  no  military  command.  They 
had  an  exchequer  of  their  own,  through  which  passed 
all  the  Imperial  taxes  from  their  provinces  ;  they  had 
absolute  control  over  the  vicars  of  the  dioceses  be- 
neath them,  whom,  if  they  did  not  actually  appoint 
they  at  least  recomrhended  for  appointment  to  the 
Emperor.  In  their  own  praefectures  they  formed 
the  final  court  of  appeal,  and  Constantine  expressly 
enacted  that  there  should  be  no  appeal  from  them 
to  the  throne.  They  even  had  a  limited  power  of 
issuing  edicts.  Thus  in  all  administrative,  financial, 
and  judicial  matters  the  four  Praetorian  praefects  were 
supreme,  occupying  a  position  very  similar  to  that 
of  the  Viceroys  of  the  great  provinces  of  China,  save 
that  they  had  no  control  over  the  troops  within  their 
territories. 

Below  these  four  praefects  came  the  vicars  of  the 
twelve  dioceses  of  the  Oriens,  Pontica,  Asiana,  Thra- 
cia,  McEsia,  Pannonia,  Britanniae,  Galliae,  Viennenses, 
Italia,  Hispaniae,  and  Africa.  Egypt  continued  to 
hold  an  unique  position ;  its  governor  was  almost 
independent  of  the  praefect  of  the  Orient,  and  was 
always  a  direct  nominee  of  the  Emperor.  Then, 
below  the  twelve  vicars  came  the  governors  of  the 
provinces,  the  number  of  which  constantly  tended 
to  increase,  but  by  further  subdivision  rather  than 
by  conquest  of  new  territory.  Various  names  were 
given  to  these  governors  ;  they  were  rectores  and  cor- 
rector es  in  some  provinces, /ri^^z^<?.y  in  many  more, 
consvlares  in  a  few  of  the  more  important  ones,  such 


AUREUS  OF  CARAUSIUS. 


^  >'>. 


AUREUS  OF  ALLECTUS. 


SOLIDUS  OF  HELENA. 


SOLIDUS  OF  QALERIUS. 


SOLIDUS  OF  SEVERUS 


The  Empire  and  Christianity      333 

as  Africa  and  Italia.  Each  had  his  own  entourage 
of  minor  officials,  and  the  hierarchical  principle  was 
observed  as  rigidly  on  the  lowest  rungs  of  the  ladder 
as  on  the  topmost.  Autocrats  are  obliged  to  rule 
through  a  bureaucracy,  a  broad-based  pyramid  of 
ofificialdom  which  usually  weighs  heavily  upon  the 
unfortunate  taxpayer  who  has  to  support  the  entire 
structure. 

A  similar  hierarchy  of  ofificials  prevailed  in  the 
palace  and  the  court,  from  the  grand  chamberlain 
down  through  a  host  of  Imperial  secretaries  to  the 
head  scullion.  The  tendency  of  each  was  to  magnify 
his  office  into  a  department,  and  to  be  the  master  of 
a  set  of  underlings.  And  it  was  the  policy  of  Con- 
stantine,  as  it  had  been  the  policy  of  Augustus,  to 
invent  new  offices  in  order  to  increase  the  number 
of  officials  who  looked  to  the  Emperor  as  their 
benefactor.* 

In  the  conduct  of  State  affairs  the  Emperor  was 
assisted  by  an  Imperial  council,  known  as  the  co7i- 
sisiorium  principis.  It  included  the  four  Praetorian 
praefects  of  whom  we  have  spoken  ;  the  quaestor  of 
the  palace,  a  kind  of  general  secretary  of  state  ;  the 
master  of  the  offices  {inagister  officiorum),  one  of 
whose  principal  duties  was  to  act  as  minister  of  police  ; 
the  grand  chamberlain  {prcsposittis  sacri  cubiculi)\ 
two  ministers  of  finance,  and  two  ministers  for  war. 
One  of  the  finance  ministers  was  dignified  with  the 
title  of  count  of  the  sacred  largesses  {comes  sacrarum 
largitiomim)  ;    the  other  was  count  of  the  private 

*  £/S  yap  TO  Tt'K.Eiova'i  rijudv  8ia<p6pov<;  kntvoEi  /3a6iXsvi 
a^idi(De  Vita  Const.,  iv.,  i). 


334  Constantine 

purse  {comes  rerum  privataruin).  The  distinction 
was  similar  to  the  old  one  between  the  cerarium  and 
\}[v&  fiscus,  between,  that  is  to  say,  the  State  treasury 
and  the  Emperor's  privy  purse.  One  of  the  two 
ministers  for  war  had  supreme  charge  of  the  infantry 
of  the  Empire ;  the  other  was  responsible  for  the 
cavalry.  Both  also  exercised  judicial  functions  and  sat 
as  a  court  of  appeal  in  all  military  cases  wherein  the 
State  was  interested,  either  as  plaintiff  or  defendant. 
There  were  still  consuls  in  Rome,  who  continued 
to  give  their  names  to  the  year.  All  their  political 
power  had  vanished,  but  their  dignity  remained  un- 
impaired, though  it  was  now  derived  not  from  the 
intrinsic  importance  of  their  office  so  much  as  from 
its  extrinsic  ornaments.  To  be  consul  had  become 
the  ambition  not  of  the  boldest  but  of  the  vainest. 
{In  consulatu  honos  sine  labor e  suscipitur.)  The  prae- 
torship  had  similarly  fallen,  but  it  still  entailed  upon 
the  holder  the  expensive  and  sometimes  ruinous 
privilege  of  providing  shows  for  the  amusement  of 
the  Roman  populace.  The  number  of  praetors  had 
fallen  to  two  in  Constantine's  day :  he  raised  it  to 
eight,  in  accordance  with  his  general  regardlessness 
of  expense,  so  long  as  there  was  outward  mag- 
nificence. It  is  doubtful  whether,  during  the  reign  of 
Constantine,  there  were  consuls  and  praetors  in  Con- 
stantinople. Certainly  there  was  no  urban  praefect 
appointed  in  that  city  until  twenty  years  after  his 
death,  and  it  seems  probable  that  the  Emperor  did 
not  set  up  in  his  new  capital  quite  such  a  pedantically 
perfect  imitation  of  the  official  machinery  of  Rome 
as  has  sometimes  been  supposed.     His  successors, 


The  Empire  and  Christianity      335 

however,  were  not  long  in  completing  what  he  had 
begun. 

We  pass  to  the  senate  and  the  senatorial  order, 
with  their  various  degrees  of  dignity,  which  Constan- 
tine  and  those  who  came  after  him  delighted  to 
elaborate.  Every  member  of  the  senate  was  natur- 
ally a  member  of  the  senatorial  order,  but  it  by  no 
means  followed  that  every  member  of  the  order  had 
a  seat  in  the  senate.  The  new  senate  of  Constanti- 
nople, like  its  prototype  at  Rome,  had  little  or  no 
political  power.  It  merely  registered  the  decrees  of 
the  Emperor,  and  its  function  seems  to  have  been 
one  principally  of  dignity  and  ceremony.  Member- 
ship of  the  senatorial  order  was  a  social  distinction 
that  might  be  held  by  a  man  living  in  any  part  of  the 
Empire  and  was  gained  by  virtue  of  having  held 
office.  The  order  was  an  aristocracy  of  officials  and 
ex-officials,  distinguished  by  resplendent  titles,  in- 
volving additional  burdens  in  the  way  of  taxation — 
the  price  of  added  dignity.  A  few  of  these  titles  are 
worth  brief  consideration.  To  the  Emperor  there 
were  reserved  the  grandiloquent  names  of  Your  Ma- 
jesty, Your  Eternity,  Your  Divinity.  Members  of 
the  reigning  house  were  Most  Noble  {Nobilissimi). 
To  the  members  of  the  senate,  including  the  officials 
of  the  very  highest  rank,  viz.,  the  consuls,  proconsuls, 
and  praefects,  there  was  reserved  the  title  of  Most 
Distinguished  {Clarisshni),  while  officers  of  lower 
rank,  members  of  the  senatorial  order  but  not  of  the 
senate,  were  Most  Perfect  {Perfectissimi)  and  Egre- 
gious {Egregii),  the  former  being  of  a  higher  class 
than  the  latter.     Such  was  the  order  of  precedence 


33^  Constantine 

in  Constantine's  reign,  but  there  was  a  constant  ten- 
dency for  these  honourable  orders  to  expand,  due, 
no  doubt,  entirely  to  the  exigencies  of  the  treasury. 
Thus  the  high  rank  of  Clarissimi  was  bestowed  on 
those  who  previously  had  been  only  Perfectissimi 
and  Egregii,  and  two  still  higher  orders  of  Illiistres 
and  Spectabiles  were  created  for  the  old  Claris- 
simi and  Perfectissimi.  The  two  topmost  classes 
were  thus  given  an  upward  step. 

Such  was  the  new  official  aristocracy,  while  a  rigid 
line  of  division,  quite  unknown  to  Republican  and 
early  Imperial  Rome,  was  drawn  between  the  civil  and 
the  military  officers  of  the  Empire.  The  military 
forces  themselves  were  organised  into  two  great  di- 
visions, (i)  the  troops  kept  permanently  upon  the 
frontiers,  and  (2)  the  soldiers  of  the  line.  The  first 
were  known  as  Limitanci  (Borderers)  or  Riparienses 
(Guardians  of  the  Shore),  the  second  name  being 
specially  applied  to  the  soldiers  of  the  Rhine  and 
the  Danube.  All  these  troops  were  stationed  in  per- 
manent camps  and  forts,  which  often  developed  into 
townships,  and  it  was  a  rare  thing  for  a  legion  to  be 
moved  to  another  quarter  of  the  Empire.  Boys 
grew  up  and  followed  their  fathers  in  the  profession 
of  arms  in  the  same  camp,  and  were  themselves  suc- 
ceeded by  their  own  sons.  The  term  of  service  was 
twenty-four  years,  and  these  Limitanei  were  not  only 
soldiers  but  tillers  of  the  soil,  playing  a  part  precisely 
similar  to  the  soldier  colonists  of  Russia  in  her  Far 
Eastern  provinces.  The  soldiers  of  the  line  {Numeri), 
on  the  other  hand,  served  for  the  shorter  period  of 
twenty  years.     They  included  the  Palatini, — practi- 


The  Empire  and  Christianity      337 

cally  the  successors  of  the  old  Praetorian  Guard, — 
the  crack  corps  of  the  army,  who  were  divided  into 
regiments  bearing  such  titles  as  Scholares,  Protectores, 
and  Domcstici,  and  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  guarding 
the  Emperor's  person.  Most  of  the  legions  of  the 
line  were  known  as  the  Comitatenses.  These  were 
employed  in  the  interior  garrisons  of  the  Empire, 
and  Zosimus — whether  justly  or  not,  it  is  impossible 
to  say — accuses  Constantine  of  having  dangerously 
weakened  the  frontier  garrisons  and  withdrawn  too 
many  troops  into  the  interior.  The  control  of  the 
army,  under  the  Emperor  and  his  two  ministers  for 
war,  was  vested  by  the  end  of  the  fourth  century  in 
thirty-five  commanders  bearing  the  titles  of  dukes  and 
counts, — the  latter  being  the  higher  of  the  two. 
Three  of  these  were  stationed  in  Britain,  six  in  Gaul, 
one  each  in  Spain  and  Italy,  four  in  Africa,  three  in 
Egypt,  eight  in  Asia  and  Syria,  and  nine  along  the 
upper  and  lower  reaches  of  the  Danube. 

Such  was  the  structure  which  rested  upon  the  purse 
of  the  taxpayer  and  upon  a  system  of  finance  in- 
herently vicious  and  wasteful.  The  main  support  of 
the  treasury  was  still,  as  it  had  always  been,  the  land 
tax,  known  as  the  capitatio  terrena,  the  old  tributiim 
soli.  It  was  the  landed  proprietor  {possessor)  who 
found  the  wherewithal  to  keep  the  Empire  on  its 
feet,  Diocletian  had  reorganised  the  census,  and,  in 
the  interests  of  the  treasury,  had  caused  a  new  survey 
and  inventory  to  be  made  of  practically  every  acre 
of  land  in  every  province.  By  an  ingenious  device 
he  had  established  a  system  of  taxable  units  {jiigiim 
or  caput),  each  of  which  paid  the   round  sum  of 


33^  Constantine 

100,000  sesterces  or  looo  aurei.  The  unit  might  be 
made  up  of  all  sorts  of  land — arable,  pasture,  or  forest 
— the  value  of  each  being  estimated  on  a  regular 
scale.  Thus  five  acres  of  vineyard  constituted  a  unit 
and  were  held  to  be  equivalent  to  twenty  acres  of  the 
best  arable  land,  forty  acres  of  second-class  land,  and 
sixty  of  third-class.  Nothing  escaped:  even  the  rough- 
est woodland  or  moorland  was  assessed  at  the  rate  of 
four  hundred  and  fifty  acres  to  the  unit.  The  Em- 
peror and  his  finance  ministers  estimated  every  year 
how  much  was  required  for  the  current  expenses  of 
the  Empire.  When  the  amount  was  fixed,  they  sent 
word  throughout  the  provinces,  and  the  various 
municipal  curi?e,  or  town  senates,  knew  what  their 
share  would  be,  for  each  town  and  district  was  as- 
sessed at  so  many  thousand  units,  and  each  curia  or 
senate  was  responsible  for  the  money  being  raised. 
The  curia  was  composed  of  a  number  of  the  richest 
landowners,  who  had  to  collect  the  tax  from  them- 
selves and  their  neighbours  as  best  they  could.  If, 
therefore,  any  possessor  became  bankrupt,  the  others 
had  to  make  up  the  shortage  between  them.  Those 
who  were  solvent  had  to  pay  for  the  insolvent.  All 
loopholes  of  evasion  were  carefully  closed.  Land- 
owners were  not  permitted  to  quit  their  district 
without  special  leave  from  the  governor;  they  could 
not  join  the  army  or  enter  the  civil  service.  When 
it  was  found  that  large  numbers  were  becoming 
ordained  in  the  Christian  Church  to  escape  their 
obligations,  an  edict  was  issued  forbidding  it.  Once 
a  decurion  always  a  decurion. 

The  provincial  country  landowner  and  the  small 


The  Empire  and  Christianity      339 

farmer  were  almost  taxed  out  of  existence  by  this 
monstrous  system.  Every  ten  or  fifteen  years,  it  is 
true,  a  revision  of  the  assessments  took  place,  and 
there  were  certain  officials,  with  the  significant  name 
of  defensores,  whose  duty  it  was  to  prevent  the  pro- 
vincials from  being  fleeced  too  flagrantly.  But  a 
man  might  easily  be  reduced  to  beggary  by  a  suc- 
cession of  bad  harvests  before  the  year  of  revision 
came  round,  and  the  defensor  s  office  was  a  sinecure 
except  in  the  rare  occasions  when  he  knew  that  he 
would  be  backed  at  the  headquarters  of  the  diocese. 
During  Constantine's  reign,  or  at  least  during  its 
closing  years,  there  is  overpowering  evidence  that 
the  provincial  governors  were  allowed  to  plunder  at 
discretion.  They  imitated  the  reckless  prodigality 
of  their  sovereign,  who,  in  331,  was  compelled  to  is- 
sue an  edict  to  restrain  the  peculation  of  his  officers. 
There  is  a  very  striking  phrase  in  Ammianus  Marcel- 
linus  who  says  that  while  Constantine  started  the 
practice  of  opening  the  greedy  jaws  of  his  favourites, 
his  son,  Constantius,  fattened  them  up  on  the  very 
marrow  of  the  provinces.  *  Evidently,  the  inci- 
dence of  this  land  tax  inflicted  great  hardships  and 
had  the  mischievous  result  of  draining  the  province 
of  capital,  and  of  dragging  down  to  ruin  the  inde- 
pendent cultivator  of  the  land.  Hence  districts 
were  constantly  in  arrears  of  payment,  and  the  re- 
mission of  outstanding  debt  to  the  treasury  was 
usually  the  first  step  taken  by  an  Emperor  to  court 
popularity  with  his  subjects. 

*  Proximortim  fauces  aper  nit  primus  omnium  Cons'aniinus  sed  eos 
jnediiUis provinciarum  saginavit  Constantius  (xvi.,  c.  8,  12), 


340  Constantine 

In  short,  the  fiscal  system  of  the  Empire,  so  far  as 
its  most  important  item,  the  land  tax,  was  concerned, 
seemed  expressly  designed  to  exhaust  the  wealth  of 
the  provinces.  It  helped  to  introduce  a  system  of 
caste,  which  became  more  rigid  and  cramping  as  the 
years  passed  by  and  the  necessities  of  the  treasury 
became  more  urgent.  It  also  powerfully  contributed 
to  crush  out  of  existence  the  yeoman  farmer,  whose 
insolvency  was  followed,  if  not  by  slavery,  at  any 
rate  by  a  serfdom  which  just  as  effectually  robbed 
him  of  freedom  of  movement.  The  colonus  having 
lost  the  title-deeds  of  his  own  land  became  the  hire- 
ling of  another,  paying  in  kind  a  fixed  proportion  of 
his  stock  and  crops,  and  obliged  to  give  personal  serv- 
ice for  so  many  days  on  that  part  of  the  estate 
where  his  master  resided.  The  position  of  the  poor 
colonus,  in  fact,  became  precisely  similar  to  that  of 
a  slave  who  had  not  obtained  full  freedom  but 
had  reached  the  intermediate  state  of  serfdom,  in 
which  he  was  permanently  attached  to  a  certain 
estate  as,  so  to  speak,  part  of  the  fixtures.  He 
was  said  to  be  "ascribed  to  the  land  "  {ascripticius), 
and  he  had  no  opportunity  of  bettering  his  social 
position  or  enabling  his  sons  to  better  theirs,  unless 
they  were  recruited  for  the  legions. 

The  land  tax,  of  course,  was  not  the  only  one,  for 
the  theory  of  Imperial  finance  was  that  everybody 
and  everything  should  pay.  Constantine  did  not 
spare  his  new  aristocracy.  Every  member  of  the 
senatorial  order  paid  a  property  tax  known  as  "  the 
senatorial  purse  "  [follis  scnatorid),  and  another  im- 
position bearing  the  name  of  auriun  oblaticium,  which 


SOLIDUS  OF  MAXIMIN  DAZA. 


SOLIDUS  OF  LICINIUS 


SOLIDUS  OF  LICINIUS  II. 


^/ 


DOUBLE  SOLIDUS  OF  CONSTANTINE  THE  GREAT 


The  Empire  and  Christianity      341 

was  none  the  more  palatable  because  it  was  sup- 
posed to  be  a  voluntary  offering.  Any  senator, 
moreover,  might  be  summoned  to  the  capital  to 
serve  as  praetor  and  provide  a  costly  entertain- 
ment—  a  convenient  weapon  in  the  hands  of 
autocracy  to  clip  the  wings  of  an  obnoxious  ex- 
official.  Another  ostensibly  voluntary  contribution 
to  the  Emperor  was  the  aurum  coronarmm,  or  its 
equivalent  of  a  thousand  or  two  thousand  pieces 
of  gold,  which  each  city  of  importance  was  obliged 
to  offer  to  the  sovereign  on  festival  occasions,  such 
as  the  celebration  of  five  or  ten  complete  years  of 
rule.  Every  five  years,  also,  there  was  a  lustralis 
collatio  to  be  paid  by  all  shopkeepers  and  usurers, 
according  to  their  means.  This  was  usually  spoken 
of  as  "  the  gold-silver "  {chrysargyritni),  and,  like 
"  the  senatorial  purse,"  is  said  by  some  authorities 
to  have  been  the  invention  of  Constantine  himself. 
Zosimus,  in  a  very  bitter  attack  on  the  fiscal  meas- 
ures of  the  Emperor,  declares  that  even  the  courte- 
sans and  the  beggars  were  not  exempt  from  the 
extortion  of  the  treasury  officials,  and  that  when- 
ever the  tribute  had  to  be  paid,  nothing  was  heard 
but  groaning  and  lamentation.  The  scourge  was 
brought  into  play  for  the  persuasion  of  reluctant  tax- 
payers ;  women  were  driven  to  sell  their  sons,  and 
fathers  their  daughters.  Then  there  were  the  capita- 
tio  humana,  a  sort  of  poll-tax  on  all  labourers  ;  the 
old  five  per  cent,  succession  duty ;  an  elaborate  sys- 
tem of  octroi  {portoria),  and  many  other  indirect 
taxes.  We  need  not,  perhaps,  believe  the  very  worst 
pictures  of  human  misery  drawn  by  the  historians, 


342  Constantine 

for,  in  fairness  to  the  Emperors,  we  must  take  some 
note  of  the  roseate  accounts  of  the  official  rhetor- 
icians. Nazarius,  for  example,  explicitly  declares 
that  Constantine  had  given  the  Empire  "peace 
abroad,  prosperity  at  home,  abundant  harvests,  and 
cheap  food."  *  Eusebius  again  and  again  conjures  up 
a  vision  of  prosperous  and  contented  peoples,  living 
not  in  fear  of  the  tax-collector,  but  in  the  enjoyment 
of  their  sovereign's  bounty.  But  we  fear  that  the 
sombre  view  is  nearer  the  truth  than  the  radiant  one, 
and  that  the  subsequent  financial  ruin,  which  over- 
took the  western  even  more  than  the  eastern  pro- 
vinces, was  largely  due  to  the  oppressive  and  wasteful 
fiscal  system  introduced  and  developed  by  Dio- 
cletian and  Constantine,  and  to  the  old  standing 
defect  of  Roman  administration,  that  the  civil  gov- 
ernor was  also  the  judge,  and  thus  administrative 
and  judicial  functions  were  combined  in  the  same 
hands. 

Here,  indeed,  lay  one  of  the  strongest  elements  of 
disintegration  in  the  reorganised  Empire,  but  there 
were  other  powerful  solvents  at  work,  at  which  we 
may  briefly  glance.  One  was  slavery,  the  evil  re- 
sults of  which  had  been  steadily  accumulating  for 
centuries,  and  if  these  were  mitigated  to  some  ex- 
tent by  the  increasing  scarcity  of  slaves,  the  degrada- 
tion of  the  poor  freeman  to  the  position  of  a  colonus 
more  than  counterbalanced  the  resultant  good. 
Population,  so  far  from  increasing,  was  going  back, 
and,  in  order  to  fill  the  gaps,  the  authorities  had  re- 

*  Omnia  f oris  placi da,  domi  frospera  ;  anno'icF  ubcrtas,  fi-tichiunt 
copia{Pan.   Vet.,  x.,  38). 


The  Empire  and  Christianity      343 

course  to  the  dangerous  expedient  of  inviting  in  the 
barbarian.  The  land  was  starving  for  want  of  capi- 
tal and  labour,  and  the  barbarian  colonus  was  intro- 
duced, as  we  have  seen  in  an  earlier  chapter,  not,  if 
the  authorities  are  to  be  trusted,  by  tens,  but  by 
hundreds  of  thousands,  "  to  lighten  the  tribute  by 
the  fruits  of  his  toil  and  to  relieve  the  Roman  citi- 
zens of  military  service."  This  was  the  principal 
and  certainly  the  original  reason  why  recourse  was 
had  to  the  barbarian  ;  the  idea  that  the  German  or 
the  Goth  was  less  dangerous  inside  than  outside  the 
frontier,  and  would  help  to  bear  the  brunt  of  the 
pressure  from  his  kinsmen,  came  later.  The  result, 
however,  of  importing  a  strong  Germanic  and  Gothic 
element  into  the  Empire  was  one  of  active  disinte- 
gration. Though  they  occupied  but  a  humble  posi- 
tion industrially,  as  tillers  of  the  soil,  they  formed 
the  best  troops  in  the  Imperial  armies.  The  boast 
which  Tacitus  put  into  the  mouth  of  a  Gallic  sol- 
dier in  the  first  century,  that  the  alien  trooper  was 
the  backbone  of  the  Roman  army,*  was  now  an  un- 
doubted truth,  and  the  spirit  which  these  strangers 
brought  with  them  was  that  of  freedom,  quite  an- 
tagonistic to  the  absolutism  of  the  Empire. 

There  was  yet  another  great  solvent  at  work, — in 
its  cumulative  effects  the  greatest  of  them  all, — the 
solvent  of  Christianity,  dissociating,  as  it  did,  spirit- 
ual from  temporal  authority,  and  introducing  the 
absolutely  novel  idea  of  a  divine  law  that  in  every 
particular  took  precedence  of  mundane  law.  The_ 
growth  of  the  power  of  the  Church,  as  a  body  en- _ 

*  Nihil  in  exercitibus  validum  nisi  externum. 


344  Constantine 

tirely  distinct  from  the  State  and  claiming  a  superior 
moral  sanction,  was  a  new  force  introduced  into  the 
Roman  Empire,  which,  beyond  question,  weakened 
its  powers  of  resistance  to  outside  enemies,  inasmuch 
as  it  caused  internal  dissensions  and  divisions.  The 
furious  hatreds  between  Christianity  and  paganism 
which  lasted  in  the  West  down  to  the  fall  of  Rome, 
and  the  equally  furious  hatreds  within  the  Church 
which  continued  both  in  East  and  West  for  long 
centuries,  can  only  be  considered  a  source  of  serious 
weakness.  No  one  disputes  that  the  desperate  and 
murderous  struggle  between  Catholic  and  Huguenot 
retarded  the  development  of  France  and  weakened 
her  in  the  face  of  the  enemy,  and  it  stands  to  reason 
that  a  nation  which  is  torn  by  intestinal  quarrel  can- 
not present  an  effective  front  to  foreign  aggression. 
It  wastes  against  members  of  its  own  household  part 
of  the  energy  which  should  be  infused  into  the  blows 
which  it  delivers  at  its  foe. 

Christianity  has  always  tended  to  break  down  dis.- 
tinctions  and  prejudices  of  race.  It  has  never  done 
so  wholly  and  never  will,  but  the  tendency  ia-ior— 
ever  at  work,  and,  as  such,  in  the  days  of  the  Emj^_ 
pire,  it  was  opposed  both  to  the  Roman  and  to  the 
Greek  spirit.  For  though  there  had  already  sprung 
up  a  feeling  of  cosmopolitanism  within  the  Empire, 
it  cannot  be  said  to  have  extended  to  those  without 
the  Empire,  who  were  still  barbarians  in  the  eyes 
not  only  of  Greek  or  Roman,  but  of  the  Romanised 
Celt  and  Iberian,  whose  civilisation  was  no  longer  a 
thin  veneer.  When  we  say  that  Christianity  was 
a  disintegrating  element  in  this  respect,  the  term  is 


The  Empire  and  Christianity      345 

by  no  means  wholly  one  of  reproach.  For  it  also 
implies  that  Christianity  assisted  the  partial  fusion 
which  took  place  when  at  length  the  frontier  barriers 
gave  way  and  the  West  was  rushed  by  the  Germanic 
races.  These  races  were  themselves  Christianised  to 
a  certain  extent.  They,  too,  worshipped  the  Cross 
and  the  Christ,  and  this  circumstance  alone  must,  to 
a  very  considerable  degree,  have  mitigated  for  the 
Roman  provinces  the  terrors  and  disasters  of  in- 
vasion. It  is  true  that  the  invaders  were  for  the 
most  part  Arians, — though  it  is  a  manifest  absurdity 
to  suppose  that  the  free  Germans  from  beyond  the 
Rhine  understood  even  the  elements  of  a  contro- 
versy so  metaphysical  and  so  purely  Greek, — and, 
when  Arian  and  Catholic  fought,  they  tipped  their 
barbs  with  poison.  "  I  never  yet,"  said  Ammianus 
Marcellinus,  "  found  wild  beasts  so  savagely  hostile 
to  men,  as  most  of  the  Christians  are  to  one  an- 
other." *  But  the  fact  remains  that  the  German 
and  Gothic  conquerors,  who  settled  where  they  had 
conquered,  accepted  the  civilisation  of  the  van- 
quished even  though  they  modified  it  to  their  own 
needs ;  they  did  not  wipe  it  out  and  substitute 
their  own,  as  did  the  Turk  and  the  Moor  when  they 
appeared,  later  on,  at  the  head  of  their  devasta- 
ting hordes.  If,_th£relQre,  Christianity  ±end-ed-ta, 
weaken,  it  also  tended  to  assimilate,  and  we  are  not 
sure  that  the  latter  process  was  not  fully  as  import- 
ani„  as  the  former.  The  Roman  Empire,  as  a  uni- 
versal power,  had  long  been  doomed ;  Christianity, 

*  NuUas  infestas  kominibus  bestias  ut  sunt  sibi  ferales  plerique 
Christianortim  expe^-tus  (xxii.,  5). 


346  Constantine 

in  this  respect,  simply  accelerated  its  pace  down  the 
slippery  slope. 

But  other  and  more  specific  charges  have  been 
brought  against  Christianity.  One  is  that  it  con- 
tributed largely  to  the  depopulation  of  the  Empire, 
which,  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  State,  was  an 
evil  of  the  very  greatest  magnitude.  The  indict- 
ment cannot  be  refuted  wholly.  In  the  name  of 
Christianity  extravagant  and  pernicious  doctrines 
were  preached  of  which  it  would  be  difificult  to  speak 
with  patience,  did  we  not  remember  that  violent 
disorders  need  violent  remedies.  No  one  can  doubt 
the  unutterable  depravity  and  viciousness  which 
were  rampant  and  unashamed  in  the  Roman  Empire, 
especially  in  the  East.  If  there  was  a  public  con- 
science at  all,  it  was  silent.  Decent,  clean-living 
people  held  fastidiously  aloof  and  tolerated  the 
existence  of  evils  which  they  did  nothing  to  combat. 
A  strong  protest  was  needed  ;  it  was  supplied  by 
Christianity.  But  many  of  those  who  took  upon 
themselves  to  denounce  the  sins  of  the  age  felt 
compelled  to  school  themselves  to  a  rigid  asceticism 
which  made  few  allowances  not  only  for  the  weak- 
nesses but  even  for  the  natural  instincts  of  human 
nature.  The  more  fanatical  among  them  grudgingly 
admitted  that  marriage  was  honourable,  but  rose  to 
enthusiastic  frenzy  in  the  contemplation  of  virginity, 
which,  if  they  dared  not  command,  they  could  and 
did  commend  with  all  the  eloquence  of  which  they 
were  capable.  One  cannot  think  without  pity  of 
all  the  self-torture  and  agonising  which  this  new 
asceticism — new,  at  least,  in  this  aggravated  form — 


The  Empire  and  Christianity      347 

brought  upon  hundreds  and  thousands  of  men  and 
women,  whose  services  the  State  needed  and  would 
have  done  well  to  possess,  but  who  cut  them- 
selves off  from  mundane  affairs,  and  withdrew  into 
solitudes,  not  to  learn  there  how  to  help  their  fellow- 
men  but  consumed  only  with  a  selfish  anxiety  to 
escape  from  the  wrath  to  come.  They  thought  of 
nothing  but  the  salvation  of  their  own  souls.  It  is 
impossible  to  see  how  these  wild  hermits,  who 
peopled  the  Libyan  deserts,  were  acceptable  in  the 
sight  either  of  themselves,  their  fellows,  or  their 
God.  Simon  Stylites,  starving  sleepless  on  his  pillar 
in  the  posture  of  prayer  for  weeks,  remains  for  all 
time  as  a  monument  of  grotesque  futility.  If  char- 
ity regards  him  with  pity,  it  can  only  regard  with 
contempt  those  who  imputed  his  insane  endurance 
unto  him  for  righteousness.  No  one  can  estimate 
the  amount  of  unnecessary  misery  and  sufferings 
caused  by  these  extreme  fanatics,  who  broke  up 
homes  without  remorse,  played  on  the  fears  and 
harrowed  the  minds  of  impressionable  men  and 
women,  and  debased  the  human  soul  in  their  frantic 
endeavour  to  fit  it  for  the  presence  of  its  Maker. 
They  stand  in  the  same  category  as  the  gaunt 
skeletons  who  drag  themselves  on  their  knees  from 
end  to  end  of  India  in  the  hope  of  placating  a  mild 
but  irresponsive  god.  Man's  first  duty  may  be 
towards  God  ;  but  not  to  the  exclusion  of  his  duty 
towards  the  State. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed,  of  course,  that  the 
majority  of  Christians  were  led  to  renounce  the 
world  and   family  life.      The  weaker  brethren  are 


348  Constantine 

always  in  a  majority,  and  we  do  not  doubt  that 
most  of  the  Christian  priests  were  of  like  mind  with 
their  flock  in  taking  a  less  heroic  but  far  more 
common-sense  view.  It  is  also  to  be  noted  that 
the  practical  Roman  temper  speedily  modified  the 
extravagances  of  the  eastern  fanatics,  and  the  as- 
ceticism of  monks  and  nuns  living  in  religious 
communities  in  the  midst  of  their  fellow-citizens, 
and  working  to  heal  their  bodies  as  well  as  to  save 
their  souls,  stands  on  a  very  different  plane  from 
the  entirely  self-centred  eremitism  associated  with 
Egypt.  By  doing  the  work  of  good  Samaritans 
the  members  of  these  communities  acted  the  part 
of  good  citizens.  Succeeding  Emperors,  whose 
Christianity  was  unimpeachable,  looked  with  cold 
suspicion  on  the  recluses  of  the  deserts.  Valens, 
for  example,  regarding  their  retirement  as  an  evasion 
of  their  civic  duties,  published  an  edict  ordering 
that  they  should  be  brought  back ;  Theodosius  with 
cynical  wisdom  said  that  as  they  had  deliberately 
chosen  to  dwell  in  the  desert,  he  would  take  care  that 
they  stopped  there.  But  it  is  easy  to  exaggerate 
the  influence  wielded  by  extreme  men,  whose  doc- 
trines and  professions  only  emerge  from  obscurity 
because  of  their  extravagances.  We  must  not, 
therefore,  lay  too  much  stress  on  the  constant  ex- 
hortations to  celibacy  and  virginity  which  we  find 
even  in  the  writings  of  such  men  as  Jerome  and 
Ambrose.  However  zealously  they  plied  the  pitch- 
fork, human  nature  just  as  persistently  came  back, 
and  the  extraordinary  outspokenness  of  Jerome,  for 
example,   in    his  letters  to  girls  who  had   pledged 


DOUBLE  SOLIDUS  OF  CONSTANTINE  THE  GREAT. 


DOUBLE  SOLIDUS  OF  FAUSTA. 


^^U  . 


J> 


DOUBLE  SOLIDUS  OF  CRISPUS. 


^^^ilT*,- 


DOUBLE  SOLIDUS  OF  CONSTANTIUS  II.    AS  C/ESAR. 


The  Empire  and  Christianity      349 

themselves  to  virginity — an  outspokenness  based  on 
the  confident  assumption  that  human,  and  more 
especially  womanly,  nature  is  weak  and  liable  to 
err — shews  that  he  was  profoundly  diffident  of  the 
success  of  his  preaching.  Nevertheless,  when  the 
counsel  of  perfection  offered  by  the  Church  was 
the  avoidance  of  marriage,  it  is  a  just  charge  against 
Christianity  that  it  was  in  this  respect  anti-civic  and 
anti-social. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  to  be  remembered  that 
this  avoidance  of  marriage  ai.d  its  responsibilities 
was  no  new  thing  in  the  Roman  Empire.  For  cent- 
uries the  State  had  been  alarmed  at  the  growth  of 
an  unwillingness,  manifested  especially  in  the  higher 
orders  of  society,  to  undertake  the  duties  of  parent- 
age. Special  bounties  and  immunities  from  taxation 
were  offered  to  the  fathers  even  of  three  children  ; 
checks  were  placed  upon  divorce ;  taxes  were  levied 
upon  the  obstinate  bachelor  and  widower  who  clung 
to  what  he  called  the  blessings  of  detached  irrespon- 
sibility {prcsmia  orbitatis).  These  laws  were  all  based 
on  the  theory  that  it  is  a  man's  civic  duty  to  marry 
and  give  sons  and  daughters  to  the  service  of  his 
countr)^,  and  we  find  one  of  the  Panegyrists  declar- 
ing them  to  be  the  very  foundation  of  the  State, 
because  they  supply  a  nursery  of  youth  and  a  con- 
stant flow  of  manly  vigour  to  the  Roman  armies.  ^ 
Yet  so  powerful  were  the  attractions  of  a  child- 
less life  {pr(2valida  orbitate — Tac,  Ann.,  iii.,  25)  that 

*  Vere  dicuntar  esse  fundamenta  rei  piihliccE,  quia  seminarium 
juventutis  et  quasi  foiitem  hittnani  roboris  semper  Romanis  exerciti- 
hus  ministrarunt  {Pan    Vet.,   vi.,  2). 


350  Constantine 

the  whole  series  of  Julian  laws  on  this  subject  had 
proved  of  little  value,  and  Tacitus  had  declared  that 
the  remedy  was  worse  than  the  disease.  The  motives 
of  the  luxurious  voluptuary  or  the  fastidious  cynic 
were  widely  different  from  those  of  the  Christian 
enthusiast  for  bodily  purity,  but  by  a  curious  irony 
they  were  directed  towards  the  same  object — the 
avoidance  of  matrimony. 

There  was  also  brought  against  Christianity  the 
charge  that  it  discouraged  military  service  and  looked 
askance  upon  the  profession  of  arms.  The  accusa- 
tion is  true  within  certain  limits.  Christianity  was 
and  is  a  gospel  of  peace.  Ideally,  therefore,  it  is 
always  antagonistic  to  war  as  a  general  principle,  and 
there  is  always  a  considerable  section  of  Christian 
opinion  which  is  opposed,  irrespective  of  the  justice 
of  the  quarrel,  to  an  appeal  to  arms.  That  section 
of  Christian  opinion  was  naturally  at  its  strongest 
when  the  Roman  Empire  was  pagan,  and  when  it 
was  practically  impossible  for  a  Christian  to  be  a 
soldier  without  finding  himself  compelled  to  worship, 
at  the  altars  of  Rome,  the  Roman  Emperor  and  the 
Roman  gods.  Omnis  militia  est  rcligio,  Seneca  had 
said  most  truly.  There  was  a  permanent  altar  fixed 
before  the  prcetorium  of  every  camp.  That  being 
the  case,  one  can  understand  that  the  army  was  re- 
garded with  abhorrence  by  every  Christian  at  a  time 
when  Christianity  was  a  proscribed,  or  barely  toler- 
ated, religion,  and  hence  the  violent  denunciations  of 
the  army  and  military  service  to  be  found  in  sonie  of 
the  early  Fathers.  Hence  too  the  number  of  Christian 
soldier  martyrs,  who  had  been  converted  while  serv- 


The  Empire  and  Christianity      351 

ing  in  the  ranks.  But  the  whole  case  was  changed 
when  the  Roman  Emperor  was  a  Christian,  and  the 
army  took  its  oath  to  a  champion  and  no  longer  to 
an  enemy  of  the  Church.  The  bishops  at  once 
changed  front — they  could  not  help  themselves — 
and  at  the  Council  of  Aries  we  have  seen  the  Gal- 
lican  bishops  passing  a  canon  anathematising  any 
Christian  who  flung  down  his  arms  in  time  of  peace. 
There  were  still  extremists,  as  there  are  to-day,  who 
denounced  war  with  indiscriminate  censure ;  there 
must  have  been  a  much  larger  number  who  ac- 
quiesced in  standing  armies  as  a  necessary  evil,  but 
themselves  carefully  kept  aloof  from  service ;  the 
majority,  as  to-day,  would  recognise  that  the  security 
of  a  State  rests  ultimately  upon  force,  and  would 
pray  that  their  cause  might  be  just  whenever  that 
force  had  to  be  put  into  operation.  It  is  not  Ter- 
tullian  with  his  dangerous  doctrine  that  politics 
have  no  interest  for  the  Christian  {iicc  tilla  luagis  res 
aliena  giiain  publico),  that  the  Christian  has  no  coun- 
try but  the  world,  and  that  Christ  had  bidden  the 
nations  disarm  when  he  bade  Peter  put  up  his 
sword — it  is  not  Tertullian  who  is  the  typical  repre- 
sentative of  the  Church  in  its  relations  with  the  State 
and  mundane  affairs,  but  the  broad-minded  Augustine 
who,  when  nervous  Christians  appealed  to  him  to 
say  whether  a  Christian  could  serve  God  as  a  soldier, 
said  that  a  man  might  do  his  duty  to  his  God  and 
his  Emperor  as  well  in  a  camp  as  elsewhere. 

God-fearing  men  could  spend  their  days  in  the 
legions  without  peril  to  their  souls,  but  the  atmo- 
sphere of  a  Roman  camp,  full  as  it  was  of  barbarians 


352  Constantine 

and  semi-barbarians,  naturally  cannot  have  been 
congenial  to  the  Christian  religion.  In  spite  of  the 
Labarum,  service  in  the  army  was  discountenanced 
by  the  more  zealous  Christian  bishops.  Yet  nothing 
could  be  more  unfair  than  to  charge  Christianity 
with  having  introduced  into  the  Roman  world  the 
reluctance  to  carry  arms.  That  reluctance  dated 
back  to  the  latter  days  of  the  Republic.  Christianity 
merely  intensified  it. 

Christianity,  again,  may  be  acquitted  of  having 
caused  the  decadence  of  literature  and  the  arts. 
That  decadence  was  of  long  standing.  There  had 
been  a  steady  decline  from  the  brilliant  circle  of 
Augustan  poets  and  prose  writers  to  the  days  of  the 
Antonines.  The  third  century  had  been  utterly 
barren  of  great  names.  Literature  had  become 
imitation  ;  originality  was  lost.  Society  was  literary 
in  tone ;  grammarians  and  rhetoricians  flourished ; 
learning  was  not  dead  but  active ;  yet  the  results, 
so  far  as  creative  work  was  concerned,  were  miser- 
ably small.  But  if  Christianity  cannot  be  held  re- 
sponsible for  the  poverty  of  imagination  in  the 
ranks  of  pagan  society,  it  must  be  held  responsi- 
ble for  its  own  shortcomings.  It  often  assumed  an 
attitude  of  open  hostility  to  the  ancient  literature, 
which  was  to  be  explained — and,  so  long  as  pagan- 
ism was  a  living  force,  might  be  justified — by  the 
fact  that  the  poetry  of  Rome  was  steeped  in 
pagan  associations.  Men  to  whom  Jupiter  was  a 
false  deity  or  demon  ;  to  whom  the  radiance  of 
Apollo  was  hateful  because  it  was  a  snare  to  the 
unwary ;    to  whom  the  purity  of  Diana,  the  cold 


The  Empire  and  Christianity      353 

stateliness  of  Minerva,  the  beauty  of  Venus,  and 
the  bountifulness  of  Ceres,  were  all  treacherous 
delusions  and  masks  of  sin,  and  all  equally  per- 
nicious to  the  soul,  found  in  the  very  charm  of 
style  and  the  seductiveness  of  language  of  the  old 
poetry  another  reason  for  keeping  it  out  of  the 
hands  of  their  children  and  for  themselves  eschewing 
its  dangerous  delights.  It  is  difficult  to  blame  them. 
Protestants  and  Catholics  even  of  the  present  day 
are  studiously  ignorant  of  the  special  literatures  of 
the  other,  and  if  the  Christian  eschewed  the  class- 
ical poets,  the  educated  pagan  was  grotesquely 
ignorant  of  the  Christian's  "Holy  Books." 

But  this  point  must  not  be  pursued  too  far. 
Education  itself  was  based  on  the  ancient  Htera- 
ture  of  Greece  and  Rome — there  was,  indeed,  no- 
thing else  on  which  to  base  it — and  in  the  ablest 
and  most  cultured  of  the  Christian  writers  the 
influence  of  the  classical  authors  is  evident  on  every 
page.  Jerome  dreamt  that  an  angel  came  to 
rebuke  him  for  his  love  of  the  rounded  periods  of 
Cicero — Ciceronianiis  es,  non  Christianus.  Augustine 
bewails  the  tears  he  had  wasted  on  the  moving 
story  of  the  Fall  of  Troy,  while  his  heart  was  in- 
sensible to  the  sufferings  of  the  Son  of  God. 
Lines  and  half  lines  from  Virgil,  or  the  choice  of  a 
Virgilian  epithet,  betray  the  ineradicable  influence 
of  the  Mantuan  over  Ambrose.  Even  the  author 
of  the  De  Mortibus  Perseciitorum,  despite  his  fero- 
cious hatred  of  paganism,  takes  evident  pleasure 
in  the  Ciceronian  flavour  of  his  maledictions.  Do 
what  he  would,  the  cultured  and  educated  Christian 


354  Constantine 

could  not  escape  from  the  spell  of  the  poets  of 
antiquity.  There  were,  of  course,  narrow-minded 
fanatics  in  plenty  who  would  cheerfully  have  burned 
the  contents  of  every  pagan  library  and  have 
imagined  that  they  were  offering  an  acceptable 
sacrifice,  and  there  were  doubtless  many  more  who, 
without  vindictiveness  towards  the  classics,  were 
quite  content  with  want  of  culture,  deeming  that 
ignorance  was  more  becoming  to  Christian  sim- 
plicity {Simplex  sermo  veritatis.)  The  tendencies  of 
Christianity,  as  compared  with  paganism,  were  not 
towards  what  we  call  the  humanities  and  a  liberal 
education,  for  the  dominant  feeling  was  that  there 
was  only  one  book  in  the  world  which  really  mat- 
tered, and  that  was  the  Bible.  There  was,  it  is  true, 
a  slight  literary  renaissance  starting  at  the  close  of 
the  fourth  century,  with  which  we  associate  the 
names  of  Ausonius,  Paulinus  of  Nola,  Prudentius, 
and  Claudian.  This  was  mainly  Christian.  Ausonius 
strictly  followed  classical  models;  the  graceful  yet 
vigorous  hymns  of  Prudentius  were  an  original  and 
valuable  contribution  to  literature ;  Claudian  stands 
neutral.  "The  last  of  the  classics,"  as  Mr.  Mackail 
has  well  said,*  "  he  is,  at  the  same  time,  the  earliest 
and  one  of  the  most  distinguished  of  the  classicists. 
It  might  seem  a  mere  chance  whether  his  poetry 
belonged  to  the  fourth  or  to  the  sixteenth  century." 
This  literary  renaissance,  however,  was  a  last  flicker, 
and  while  we  have  to  thank  the  Church  for  preserv- 
ing the  Latin  tongue,  we  owe  it  little  thanks — 
compared  with  the  paganism  it  had  overthrown — for 

*  History  of  Latin  Literature,  Bk.  III.,  c.  7. 


The  Empire  and  Christianity      355 

its  services  to  culture  and  the  humanities.  In  the 
fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries  the  classics  had 
to  be  rediscovered  and  relearnt :  the  dead  spirit  of 
humanism  had  to  be  quickened  to  a  new  birth. 

Hard  things  have  been  said  of  Christianity  and 
its  influence  upon  the  Roman  Empire,  harder  per- 
haps than  the  facts  warrant,  though  the  bitterness 
of  many  of  the  critics  has  been  directly  provoked 
by  the  boundless  assumptions  of  the  Christian 
apologists.  Looking  back  dispassionately  upon  the 
period  with  which  we  have  been  dealing,  it  is  not 
difificult  to  see  why  the  Church  triumphed  and 
why  the  nations  acquiesced  as  readily  as  they  did  in 
the  downfall  of  paganism.  The  reason  is  that  the 
world  had  grown  stale.  It  had  outlived  all  its 
old  ideals.  It  was  sick  of  doubt,  weary  of  bloodshed 
and  strife,  and  nervously  apprehensive,  we  can 
hardly  question,  of  the  cataclysm  that  was  to  burst 
upon  the  West  and  submerge  it  before  another 
century  was  over.  The  philosophies  were  worn  out. 
The  gods  themselves  had  grown  grey.  There  was 
a  general  atmosphere  of  numbness  and  decrepitude. 
Men  wanted  consolation  and  hope.  Christianity 
alone  could  supply  it,  and  though  Christianity  itself 
had  lost  its  early  joyousness,  freshness,  and  simplicity, 
it  retained  unimpaired  its  marvellous  powers  to  con- 
sole. To  a  world  tired  of  questioning  and  search  it 
returned  an  answer  for  which  it  claimed  the  sanction 
of  absolute  Truth.  The  old  spirit  was  not  wholly 
dead.  One  may  see  it  revive  from  time  to  time  in 
the  various  heresies  which  split  the  Church.  But  it 
was   ruthlessly    suppressed,    and   humanity  had   to 


356 


Constantine 


purchase  back  its  liberty  of  thought  at  a  great  price, 
ten  or  more  centuries  later,  when  the  world  realised 
that  her  ancient  deliverer  had  herself  become  a 
tyrant.  Nevertheless,  few  can  seriously  doubt 
that  the  triumph  of  the  Christian  Church  was  an 
unspeakable  boon  to  mankind.  The  Roman  Empire 
was  doomed.  Its  downfall  was  certain  and,  on  the 
whole,  was  even  to  be  desired,  so  long  as  its  civil- 
isation was  not  wholly  wiped  out  and  the  genius  of 
past  generations  was  not  wholly  destroyed. 


INDEX 


Achillas,  190 

Acts  of  Pilate,  The,  anti- 
Christian  pamphlet,  145, 
146 

Adrianople,    battle    of,    128, 

158 
iElianus,  Proconsul  of  Africa, 

172,  173 

Alemanni  defeated  by  Cris- 
pus,  124 

Alexander,  a  Phrygian,  leads 
revolt  in  Africa,  76 

Alexander  of  Alexandria, 
holds  Arius  in  high  esteem , 
190;  becomes  involved  in 
controversy  with  Arius, 
192  ff.;  summons  provin- 
cial synod,  195;  denounces 
Arians,  201  ff.;  attacks  Eu- 
sebius  of  Nicomedia,  203; 
at  Council  of  Nicsea,  214; 
influenced  by  Athanasius, 
215;  prayer  for  the  truth  in 
regard  to  Arius,  274,  298; 
death,  286;  refuses  to  ad- 
mit Arius  to  communion, 
298 

Amandus,  Admiral,  defeated 
by  Crispus,  129 

Ambrose,  St.,  exhortations  to 
avoid  marriage,  348;  influ- 
enced by  Virgil,  353 

Ammianus  Marcellinus, 
quoted,  345 

Anastasia,  half-sister  to  Con- 
stantine,  120 


Anastasis,   Church   of,    dedi- 
cated, 3 1 1 
Ancyra,   Council  of,   canons, 

153     . 

Annibalianus,  son-in-law  of 
Constantine,  309 

Antony,  Saint,  147,  297 

Anulinus,proconstil  of  Africa, 
letter  from  Constantine  to, 
167,  168 

Apollo,  statue  of,  270,  271 

Arcadius,  rebuilds  walls  of 
Constantinople,  266 

Arch  of  Constantine,  91 

Arian  controversy,  189  ff.; 
223  ff.;  Canon  Bright  on, 
194;   Gibbon  on,  194 

Arianism,  origin,  189  ff.; 
leading  tenet,  193  ff.,  198, 
223,  224;  Canon  Bright  on, 
194,  class  to  which  it  ap- 
pealed, 197  ff.;  claims,  198 
ff. ;  formal  condemnation 
of,  229 

Arians,  edicts  against,  286; 
and  Constantia,  289;  para- 
mount at  Imperial  Court, 
290;  plot  against  Athana- 
sius, 290 

"Ariomaniacs,"  206 

Aristaces  repeats  Nicene 
Creed  to  his  father,  285 

Arius,  a  power  in  Alexandria, 
190;  character,  190,  191; 
preaching  strange  doctrine, 
191;  starts  controversy, 
192  ff.;  denounces  Alexan- 
der,  193;  defends  his  doc- 


357 


358 


Index 


Arius    (Continued) 

trine  before  synod,  195  ff.; 
excommunicated,  196,  231, 
236  ;  finds  champion  in 
Eusebius  of  Nicomedia,  200 
ff.;  synod  of  Bithynian 
bishops  sympathises  with, 
202  ff.;  Thalia,  204  ff.,  222, 
231  ;  Constantine  inter- 
venes between  Alexander 
and,  207  ff.;  at  Council  of 
NicEea,  214,  221,  231,  236; 
and  Eusebian  party,  229 
ff.;  recalled  from  exile,  287, 
288  ;  Constantine 's  attack 
on,  288 ;  pronounced  a  true 
Catholic  by  Council  of 
Tyre,  295  ;  returns  to  Alex- 
andria, 297;  questioned  as 
to  his  faith,  by  Constan- 
tine, 297;  seeks  admission 
to  Church  at  Constanti- 
nople, 298,  299;  death,  299, 
300 

Aries,  Council  of,  173-176; 
canons  of,  177,  178,  351 

Armenia,  recovered  for  Rome, 
6;  Saint  Gregory  in,  27 

Arsenius,  legend  of  withered 
hand,  293 

Athanasians  and  baptism  of 
Constantine,  315 

Athanasius,  Saint,  on  help 
given  to  persecuted  Chris- 
tians, 28;  First  Discourse 
against  the  Arians,  quoted, 
204,  205  ;  influence  on  Alex- 
ander, 214,  215;  leader  of 
Trinitarians,  221 ;  on  Coun- 
cil of  Nicaea,  222-224;  in 
Arian  controversy,  227; 
condemnation  of,  231,  295; 
banished,  239,  296;  elected 
bishop,  286;  plot  against, 
290 ;  refuses  to  restore  Arius 
to  communion,  291;  Con- 
stantine threatens,  291, 
292;  campaign  of  calumny 


against,  292;  refuses  to 
attend  trial  at  Caesarea, 
293;  trial  at  Council  of 
Tyre,  293-295;  appeals  to 
Constantine,  294,  295. 

Augustaeum,  the,  268,  269 

Augustine,  Saint,  Bishop  of 
Hippo,  on  Botrus  and  Ce- 
lestius,  164;  on  Donatists, 
181,  182;  on  the  Circtun- 
celliones,  186;  and  the 
Donatist  schism,  187;  on 
Constantine ,  3  2  9 ;  on  Christ- 
ian duty.  351 ;  and  ancient 
literature,  353 

Aurelian,  Emperor,  recovers 
Britain  and  Gaul,  3  ;  mur- 
dered, 4;  persecution  of 
Christians,  13;  influence 
on  Galerius,  17;  subdues 
Goths  and  Sarmatae,  123 

Ausonius,  354 


B 


Bassianus,  120 

Botrus,  deacon,  164 

Bright,  Canon,  quoted,  on 
Arianism,  194,  199;  on 
philosophy  and  the  Church, 
227 

Britain,  Carausius  ruler  of,  6 ; 
Constantius  ruler  of,  8; 
Constantine  rvder  of,  51, 
56,  76,  82;  Constantius  re- 
covers, 52,  53 ;  Crispus  ruler 
of,  124 

Burnt  Pillar,  the,  270 

Bury,  Professor,  quoted,  on 
Constantine,  328 

Byzantium,  capitulation  of, 
115,  128;  naval  battle  at, 
129,  259;  advantages  of 
position,  259,  261;  chosen 
by  Constantine  as  site  for 
a  new  city,  259,  260;  re- 
nowned, 261 ;  withstands 
Philip    of    Mace  don,    262; 


Index 


359 


Byzantium  (Continued) 

Polybius  on,  262;  prosper- 
ity, 262,  263 

Byzas,  the  Megarian,  founder 
of  Byzantium,  261 

C 

Caecilianus,  rebukes  Lucilla, 
163;  elected  bishop,  164; 
position  challenged,  165, 
166,  170,  171,  173,  178; 
letter  from  Constantine  to, 
166,  167;  summoned  to 
Rome,  180,  181;  Constan- 
tine's  verdict  on,  182  ;  Don- 
atists  refuse  to  obey,  184 

Cagsarea,  Council  of,  292,  293 

Caius,  238 

Candidianus  executed,  119 

Carausius,  6,  65 

Carinus,  son  of  Carus,  Em- 
pire divided  between  Nu- 
merian  and,  4;  death,  5 

Carnuntum,  conference  at, 
63.64 

Carthage  sacked,  76 

Carthage,  Council  of,  188 

Carus  devastates  Persia,  4 

Catholic  Party,  165  ff.;  297 

Celestius,  deacon,  164 

"Champions  of  the  Lord," 
the,  185 

Chrestus,  Bishop  of  Syracuse, 

175 

Christian  martys,  15,  17  ff., 
28,  30  ff.,  136  ff.,  147,  157 

Christian  schools  of  Antioch 
and  Alexandria,  213 

Christianity,  rapid  spread, 
12;  embraced  by  Constan- 
tine, 93  ^.,306,312  /7.;  ele- 
ment in  disintegration  of 
Empire,  343,  344,  346; 
element  of  assimilation, 
345;  tendency  to  depopu- 
late Empire,  346-350;  and 
asceticism,  346-348;  and 
military  service,   350-352; 


and  literature  and  art, 
352-354;  influence  upon 
Roman  Empire,  355,  356 

Christians,  persecution  of,  12 
ff.,  27,  1^4  ff.;  erect  church 
at  Nicomedia,  13  ;  and  Neo- 
Platonists,  19,  20 

Chrysopolis,  battle  of,  130, 
158 

Church,  the,  condition  in 
reign  of  Diocletian,  12-14, 
16;  persecution  of,  12  ff., 
134  ff.;  and  State,  13,  14, 
158,  234,  343,  344;  schisms 
in,  153,  159^.,  189;  211 /f.; 
triumph  of,  236,  355,  356; 
persecution  ended,  285; 
and  marriage,  349 

Cibalis,  battle  of,  121 

Circumcelliones,  a  religious 
sect,  185,  186 

Cirta,  capital  of  Numidia, 
sacked,  76;  renamed,  186 

Cirta,  synod  of,  161,  162 

Cistern  of  Philoxenos,  273 

Claudian,  354 

Claudius  subdues  Goths  and 
Sarmatae,  3,  123 

Coins,  239,  314,  318 

Colonus,  the,  condition,  340, 


342,  343 
3k 


Column  of  Constantine,  270 

Constans,  son  of  Constantine, 
238,  309 

Constantia,  wife  of  Licinius, 
pleads  for  his  life  131;  in- 
fluence,  200,  230,  239,  289 

Constantina,  daughter  of 
Constantine,  309 

Constantina,  new  name  of 
Cirta,  186 

Constantine,  Emperor,  birth 
and  parentage,  43,  44; 
birthplace,  44,  260;  early 
life  and  characteristics,  45  ;  1  4  ^ 
ambitions,  46;  escape  from  .  4( 
Galerius,  47 ;  joms  his 
father,      48 ;      saluted     as 


36o 


Index 


Constantine  (Continued) 
Augustus  by  the  troops,  49 ; 
declares  himself  Emperor, 
50  ;  acknowledged  as  Cassar 
by  Galerius,  50;  Caesar  of 
the  West,  51 ;  victory  over 
the  Franks,  53-55;  atti- 
tude toward  Galerius,  60; 
marriage,  61;  alliance  of 
Maximian  and  Maxen- 
tius  with,  62 ;  relations 
with  Diocletian,  64;  ac- 
knowledged as  Augustus 
by  Galerius,  66 ;  recognises 
Maximian,  67 ;  expedi- 
tion against  the  Franks, 
67,  68;  quells  Maxim- 
ian, 69;  plots  against,  70, 
7 1 ;  his  domain,  7 6  ;  alliance 
of  Licinius  with,  79;  war 
with  Maxentius,  80  ff.; 
battle  of  Milvian  Bridge, 
86,  87;  triumphal  proces- 
sion in  Rome,  88  ;  disbands 
Praetorians,  89 ;  acts  of  con- 
ciliation, 90;  games  and 
festivals  in  honour  of,  91; 
vision   of    the    Cross    and 

.^conversion,  92,  95  /7-.'  issues 
Edict  of  Milan,  107  ff.;  and 
Licinius  share  Roman  Em- 
pire, 120;  war  with  Licin- 
ius, 120  ff.;  defeats  Licinius 
at  Cibalis,  121;  defeats  Li- 
cinius at  Mardia,  121; 
treaty  with  Licinius,  122; 
appoints  Crispus  as  Caesar, 
122;  his  sons,  123;  rupture 
with  Licinius,  123  ff.,  154; 
triumphs  of,  124;  cham- 
pion of  the  Church,  126, 
127;  defeats  Licinius  at 
Adrianople,  128 ;  victory  at 
Byzantium,  129;  general- 
ship of,  130;  victory  at 
Chrysopolis,  130;  treat- 
ment of  Licinius,  131,  132; 
signs    edict    of    toleration, 


140;  overthrow  of  Maxen- 
tius, 153;  recalls  exiled 
Christians,  158;  and  the 
Donatists,  159  ff.;  African 
bishops  appeal  to,  159; 
presents  money  to  Afri- 
can clergy,  166;  letter  to 
Caecilianus,  166;  letter  to 
Anulinus,  167;  party  of  Ma- 
jorinus  appeal  to,  169;  let- 
ter to  Mil  tiades,  169;  letter 
to  ^lianus,  172-174;  letter 
to  Chrestus,  175;  letter  to 
Council  of  Aries,  178-180; 
summons  Caecilianus  to 
Rome,  180  ;  letter  to  Dona- 
tist  bishops,  180;  letter 
to  Probianus,  181;  passes 
judgment  on  Caecilianus, 
182  ;  change  of  policy.  183  ; 
ignores  African  Church, 
185  ;  letter  to  the  Catholics 
and  his  opinion  of  the 
Donatists,  187;  and  Arian 
controversy,  189,  207-210, 
285-297;  calls  Council  of 
Nicasa,  211;  opens  the 
Council,  217-219;  and  Ni- 
cene  Creed,  230 ;  celebrates 
his  Vicennalia,  232,  233, 
239,322;  farewell  speech  to 
Council  of  Nicaea,  233,  234: 
letter  "To  the  Churches," 
235;  family,  237;  mother's 
influence  upon,  238,  239; 
and  Procession  of  the 
Knights,  240;  edict  to  his 
subjects,  241 ;  turns  against 
Crispus,  242;  murder  of 
Crispus,  Licinianus,  and 
Fausta,  243-247;  repent- 
ance, 247,  249;  donation 
of,  248,  249;  baptism,  248, 
249;  builds  churches,  249, 
251,  318,  319;  campaigns 
against  the  Goths  and  Sar- 
matae,  252,  253;  confession 
of  faith,    254,     255;     rela- 


Index 


361 


Constantine  {Continued) 
tionswith  Persia,  254-256; 
founder  of  Constantinople, 
257  ff.;  edicts  against  the 
Arians,  286;  character,  301 
ff.;  passion  for  building, 
302,  303;  division  of  the 
Empire,  307-311;  educa- 
tion of  his  sons,  308;  cele- 
brates Tricennalia,  311; 
fatal  malady,  312,  313; 
death  and  burial,  256,  313, 
314;  and  religious  parties, 
316;  daily  religious  life, 
317;  edict  for  observance 
of  Lord's  day,  319;  prayer, 
319;  policy  toward  old  re- 
ligion, 320  ff.;  edict  giving 
religious  freedom,  321; 
Pontifex  Maximus,  322  ff.; 
and  divination,  326;  edict 
to  abolish  gladiatorial 
shows,  327;  reforms,  330; 
attitude  of  subjects  to,  33 1 ; 
organisation  of  Empire, 
331;  fiscal  system  of,  339- 
342 

Constantine,  son  of  the  Em- 
peror Constantine,  296, 
309 

Constantinople,  foundation 
of,  257  /f.;  called  "New 
Rome,"  258;  and  Napo- 
leon, 259;  part  rebuilt, 
266;  called  Septicollis,  266; 
dedication,  267;  plan  and 
buildings,  269;  forum,  269; 
palaces,  272;  aqueducts, 
273;  Hippodrome,  274, 
276;  churches,  274-276 

Constantinus,  son  of  Con- 
stantine, 309,  314 

Constantius,  son  of  Constan- 
tine, persecution  of  Christ- 
ians, 134;  birth,  238; 
appointed  Caesar  of  Gaul, 
242;  nanied  consul,  243 

Constantius  Chlorus,   Caesar, 


5 ;  goes  to  Britain,  6 ;  do- 
main, 8;  character,  16,  328; 
attitude  toward  Christ- 
ians, 16,  26;  becomes  em- 
peror, 40;  ancestry,  44; 
marriage,  44;  loyalty,  46; 
death,  49 

Consuls,  334 

"Council  of  the  318,"  the, 
212 

Crispus,  son  of  Constantine, 
becomes  Caesar,  122;  vic- 
tory over  Alemanni,  124, 
125;  victory  over  Aman- 
dus,  129;  heir  to  throne, 
237;  victories,  237;  and 
Fausta,  238;  Constantine 
turns  against,  242,  243; 
death,  243 

Curia,  the,  338 


D 


Dalmatius,  310 

Damasus,  Pope,  152 

Datianus,  29 

Decius,  Emperor,  persecu- 
tion of  the  Christians,  13 

Diocletian,  Emperor,  acces- 
sion, 5,  45;  chooses  col- 
leagues, 5 ;  recovers  Arme- 
nia for  Rome  6;  attitude 
toward  Galerius,  7,8;  con- 
trolling spirit  in  the  Em- 
pire, 8;  locates  his  capital, 
8,  57;  domain,  8;  changes 
introduced  by,  9;  decen- 
tralisation in  the  pro- 
vinces, 10;  prosperous 
reign,  11;  persecution  of 
the  Christians,  12,  24/f.;  79, 
160;  wife  and  daughters, 
13;  neutrality  toward  the 
Church,  14  ;  neutraUty 
changed  to  antagonism, 
16.  19:  influenced  by  Ga- 
lerius, 16,  25,  70,  74;  edict 
against    the    Manichasans, 


362 


Index 


Diocletian  (Continued) 

22,  23;  and  Galerius,  23; 
edicts  against  the  Christ- 
ians, 26,  99,  134;  motive 
for  persecution,  38;  abdi- 
cation, 39,  41,  43;  chooses 
new  Caesars,  40,  41,  retires 
to  private  Hfe,  40,  46; 
system  of  organisation, 
50,  65,  66,  74,  123,  242, 
311.  330.  33.1,  337;  recog- 
nises Carausius,  51  ;mvited 
to  conference  at  Carnun- 
tum,  63,  64;  relations  with 
Constantine,  64;  treatment 
of  the  Senate,  90;  declines 
invitation  to  wedding  of 
Constantine 's  sister,  106; 
wife  and  daughter,  118, 
119;  wishes  daughter  to 
live  with  him ,  119;  cele- 
brates Vicennalia,  134, 
239,  240;  proclaims  am- 
nesty, 134  _ 
Donatist  schism,  159-188 
Donatists,  159-188;  Constan- 
tine's  letter  to,  180;  raison 
d'etre,  183;  increase  in 
numbers,  185 
Donatus  Magnus,  leader  of 
Donatist  schism,  166,  173, 
184,  185 
Donatus  of  Casae  Nigrae,  165 
Donatus  of  Mascula,  161 


Easter,  celebration,  231,  232 

Education,  basis  of,  353  ;  and 
Christianity,  354  . 

Eusebian  party,  rise,  221; 
and  Nicene  Creed,  229,  230; 
in  favour  at  Imperial 
Court,  290;  confounded  at 
Arius's  death,  299 

Eusebius  of  Csesarea,  on  Con- 
stantine's  conversion,  93 
ff.;  letter  of  Constantine  to. 


158;  friend  of  Arius,  196, 
214;  teachings,  200;  on 
Arian  controversy,  206; 
supports  middle  party  at 
Council  of  Nicsea,  221; 
creed  of,  224,  225;  signs 
Nicene  Creed,  229,  230;  on 
Constantine 's  baptism, 
death,  and  burial,  312,  315  ; 
on  Constantine 's  daily  life, 
317;  on  Constantine 's  re- 
ligious policy,  T,2o  ff. 
Eusebius  of  Nicomedia,  as 
historian,  25;  History  of 
the  Church,  27,  71,  97;  Life 
of  Constantine,  27,  97; 
champion  of  Arius,  200 
ff.,  214;  calls  a  synod  of 
Bithynian  bishops,  202; 
attacked  by  Alexander, 
203  ;  leader  of  middle  party 
at  Council  of  Nicsea,  221; 
character,  222  ;  and  the 
word  "Homoousion,"  224; 
signs  Nicene  Creed,  231; 
exiled,  231,  236;  recalled, 
287,  288;  succeeds  Hosius 
as  adviser  to  Constantine, 
290,  300,  316;  attack  on 
Athanasius,  291  ff.;  at- 
tempt to  restore  Arius, 
291;  baptises  Constantine, 

Evistathius,  Bishop  of  An- 
tioch,  charges  against,  291 

Eutropius,  on  Constantino's 
character,  306,  307 


Fausta,  wife  of  Constantine, 
reveals  conspiracy  against 
Constantine,  71;  sons,  123; 
attitude  toward  Crispus, 
238,  243,  244;  death,  244, 
24s,  247 

Felix,  Bishop  of  Aptunga, 
164,  165,  173 


Index 


363 


Finance,    system    of,    under 

Diocletian,    337-339.    342; 

under    Constantine,     339- 

342 
FiiTnilianus,      Governor      of 

Palestine,    persecution    of 

Christians,  136 
Franks,  i,  5,  54,  253 

G 

Galerius,  Emperor,  becomes 
Caesar,  5,  39;  entrusted 
with  command  of  Parthia, 
6;  victory  over  Parthians, 
7,  74;  and  Diocletian, 
8;  domain,  8;  capital  at 
Sirmium,  8;  character  and 
influence,  16,  25;  mother's 
influence,  16;  persecution 
of  Christians,  17-19,  23- 
25,  74;  becomes  Augustus, 
40 ;  nominates  new  Caesars, 
41,  42;  attitude  toward 
Constantine,  42,  46,  60; 
sends  Constantine  to  his 
father,  47,  48;  acknow- 
ledges Constantine  as  Cae- 
sar, 50 ;  extends  the  census, 
57;  relations  with  Severus, 
59;  invasion  of  Italy,  60- 
62,  76,  81;  calls  a  confer- 
ence at  Camuntum,  63 ; 
and  Diocletian,  63 ;  ap- 
points Licinius  as  Augus- 
tus, 64,  65 ;  relations  with 
Maximin  Daza,  65,  66; 
recognises  Maximin  as  Au- 
gustus, 66;  death,  73,  74, 
138;  estimate  of  the  man, 
74,  75;  nominates  his  suc- 
cessor, 75;  edicts,  79,  99; 
aims  carried  out,  89 ;  leaves 
wife  to  care  of  Maximin, 
118;  edict  of  toleration, 
138-140 

Gallienus,  and  senatorial  or- 
der, 9;  issues  edicts  of  tol- 
eration, 13 


Gaul,  devastated  by  Franks, 
I ;  recovered  by  Aurelian, 
3 ;  at  Diocletian's  acces- 
sion, 6;  Constantius  ruler 
of,  8,  52;  Constantine  in, 
51,  56,  76,  82;  Crispus  in, 
124,  242 

Gibbon  on  the  Circumcel- 
liones,  186;  on  the  Arian 
controversy,  194;  on  Con- 
stantinople, 263,  264;  on 
Annibaliantis ,  309 

Goths,  invade  Roman  Em- 
pire, 123,  124;  war  with 
Constantine,  252 

Gregory  of  Nyssa  on  Arian 
controversy,  206 

Gregory,  Saint,  in  Armenia, 
27 

Gregory,  the  Illuminator  of 
Armenia,  and  the  Nicene 
Creed,  285 

Grosvenor,  Mr.,  quoted  on 
Constantinople ,  273,  275, 
278,  281 

H 

Helena,  mother  of  Constan- 
tine, ancestry,  43,  44; 
honoured  by  Constantine, 
239;  and  death  of  Crispus, 
245;  pilgrimage,  249-251; 
legend  of  finding  of  the 
Cross,  250,  251;  death,  252 

Heraclea,  siege  of,  115 

Heraclius,  elected  bishop, 
152 

Herculius,  8 

Hermogenes,  228 

Hierocles,  author  of  The 
Friend  of  Truth,  20 

Holy    Apostles,    Church    of, 

27s 
Holy  Trinity,  Church  of,  275 
Horses  of  Lysippus,  283 
Hosius,    Bishop  of   Cordova, 

commissioned   to   mediate 


3^4 


Index 


Hosius  (Continued) 

between  Alexander  and 
Arius,  207 ;  advises  Con- 
stantine,  2 1 1  ;  at  Council  of 
Nicsea,  212,  221,  228;  falls 
from  favour,  290,  316 


Imperial  Council,  333 
Italy,  invasion  of,  y^  ff. 


Jerome,  Saint,  exhortations 
against  marriage,  348,  349; 
dream  of,  353 

Jovius,  adopted  name  of  Dio- 
cletian, 8 

Julian,  Banquet  of  the  Ccesars, 

77 
Julian,  Emperor,  on  Constan- 
tine,  124,  303-305,  on  Con- 
stantinople, 268 
Julian  laws  on  marriage,  350 
Justinian,     statue     of,     269; 
builds  Church  of  St.  Sophia, 
274,  276 


Lactantius,  estimate  of,  as 
historian,  40-42,  47 

Land  tax,  337  ff. 

Licinianus,  becomes  Csesar, 
122;  attitude  of  Constan- 
tine  toward,  125;  life 
spared,  133;  death,  243 

Licinius,  Emperor,  at  confer- 
ence of  Carnuntum,  63  ;  be- 
comes Augustus,  64-66; 
successor  of  Galerius,  75; 
and  Maximin  Daza  in  east- 
ern half  of  Empire,  76;  at- 
titude to  Maximin  Daza, 
79,  80;  alliance  with  Con- 


stantmc,  79;  marriage,  79, 
106;  and  Edict  of  Milan, 
107  ff.;  other  edicts,  109; 
downfall,  115  ff.;  at  Milan, 
115;  victory  over  Maxi- 
min Daza,  116,  117;  angel's 
revelation  to,  116;  execu- 
tion of  Maximin  Daza's 
family,  118,  119;  execu- 
tion of  Candidianus,  119; 
and  Constantine  share  Em- 
pire, 120;  war  with  Con- 
stantine, 120;  defeated  at 
Cibalis,  121;  defeated  at 
Mardia,  121;  treaty  with 
Constantine,  122;  appoints 
Licinianus  as  Caesar,  122; 
gives  up  important  pro- 
vinces, 122;  rupture  with 
Constantine,  123,  125-127, 
154,  157;  religious  policy, 
126,  127;  defeated  at  Adri- 
anople,  128;  defeated  at 
Chrysopolis,  130 ;  pleads  for 
his  life",  131;  death,  132; 
character,  132;  edict  of 
toleration,  138-140;  de- 
feats Maximin,  153;  anti- 
Christian  campaign,  154, 
155,157;  throws  over  Edict 
of  Milan,  155;  exile,  158 

Literature ,  anti-Christian , 
145;  decadence  of,  352; 
character  of  pagan,  352; 
basis  of  education,  353; 
renaissance  of,  354 

Lucian  of  Antioch,  famous 
teacher,  200,  201 

Lucilla,  censured  by  Church 
of  Carthage,  162-164;  in- 
trigues of,  188 

Ludi  Cereales,  36 

Lycians,  petition  of,  142,  143 

M 

Mackail,  Mr.,  History  of  Latin 
Literature,  quoted,  354 


Index 


365 


Majorinus,  elected  bishop, 
165  ;  death,  165  ;  not  recog- 
nised by  the  cihurches,  166 

Mamertinus,  eulogy  on  Max- 
imian,  52 

Manichasanism,  rise,  22,  23; 
chief  characteristic,  22 

Marcellus,  elected  bishop, 
151 ;  exile  and  death,  152 

Mardia,  battle  of,  121 

Maris  of  Chalcedon,  and  Ni- 
cene  Creed,  230,  231;  ex- 
iled, 231 

Marriage,  Jerome  exhorts 
against,  348,  349;  and  the 
State  and  Church,  349 

Martinianus,  becomes  Caesar, 
130;  death,  133 

Maxentius,  Emperor,  son  of 
Maximian,  claims  heritage 
of  Caesar,  56;  character, 
56,  77-79;  marriage,  57; 
master  of  Rome,  57,  58; 
resumes  title  of  Augustus, 
59;  and  Maximian  besiege 
Severus,  59,  60;  and  Max- 
imian in  alliance  with 
Constantine,  60;  and  Max- 
imian in  possession  of 
Italy,  62 ;  rupture  with 
Maximian,  62,  63,  67,  70; 
domain,  76;  treatment  of 
African  cities,  76;  loss  of 
popularity,  76;  restores 
property  to  Christians,  79, 
15  2 ;  attitude  to  other  Au- 
gusti,  79;  alliance  with 
Maximin  Daza,  80;  war 
with  Constantine,  80  ff.; 
overthrow,  82  ff.,  no,  154; 
Italy  wrested  from,  85; 
death,  87;  head  carried  in 
triumphal  procession,  88 ; 
seeks  good-will  of  Christ- 
ians, 151;  exiles  bishops, 
152;  libel  against,  163 

Maximian,  Emperor,  be- 
comes CcEsar,   5 ;    becomes 


Augustus ,  5 ;  ruler  of  the 
West,  6,  '8;  fights  the 
Moors,  6 ;  recognises  Carau- 
sius,  6,  51;  styles  himself 
Herculius,  8 ;  character,  14, 
1 5 ;  persecution  of  the 
Christians,  15-19,  160; 
celebrates  the  Ludi  Cere- 
ales,  36;  abdication,  40,  56; 
restores  peace  to  Gaul,  51; 
eulogised  by  Mamertirrus, 
5  2 ;  locates  his  Court  at 
Milan,  57;  resumes  title  of 
Augustus,  59;  victory  over 
Severus,  59,  60;  and  Max- 
entius in  alliance  with  Con- 
stantine, 60,  62;  gives  his 
daughter  in  marriage  to 
Constantine,  61,  62;  and 
Maxentius  in  possession  of 
Italy,  62;  rupture  with 
Maxentius,  62,  63,  67,  70; 
expelled  from  Italy,  63 ;  at 
conference  of  Carnimtiim, 
63,  65 ;  ex- Augustus,  65,66; 
returns  to  Gaul,  67;  plots 
against  Constantine,  68, 69 ; 
stripped  of  his  titles,  69 ;  fur- 
ther plots  against  Constan- 
tine, 70,  71 ;  death,  71,72 
Maximin  Daza,  Emperor,  be- 
comes Caesar,  40,  57  ;  nomi- 
nated by  Galerius,  41,  42; 
domain,  65,  75;  claims 
title  of  Augustus,  66; 
claims  title  of  senior  Au- 
gustus, 75;  and  Licinius 
in  eastern  half  of  Empire, 
76;  alliance  with  Maxen- 
tius, 79,  80,  148;  in  op- 
position to  Licinius,  80, 
107;  invades  territory  of 
Licinius,  115,  148;  de- 
feated, 116,  117,  148,  153; 
flight  117,  118,  148;  com- 
mits suicide,  118,  151;  pro- 
vince falls  into  hands  of 
Licinius,  1 18;  family  slain, 


366 


Index 


Maximin  Daza  (Continued) 
ii8;    treatment    of    Prisca 
and     Valeria,      ii8,      119; 
persecution   of   Christians, 

135-137.  141-143.  145- 
147;  act  of  toleration,  137, 
1 49-1 5 1 ;  restores  privi- 
leges to  Christians,  140, 
149,  150;  character,  146, 
147;  eminent  victims  of, 
147;  war  with  Tiridates, 
148;  final  edict,  149,  150 
Maxim  us,  Governor  of  Cilicia, 

30 
Maximus,  Governor  of  Moesia, 

17.  18 

Meletian  schismatics  checked, 
297 

Meletians  recognised  as  or- 
thodox, 295 

Meletius,  Bishop  of  Lyco- 
polis,  condemned  by  Egyp- 
tian bishops,  190 

Mensurius,  Bishop  of  Car- 
thage and  Primate  of 
Africa,  trick  to  save  Holy 
Books,  160;  summoned  to 
Rome,  164;  death,  164 

Milan,  conference  at,  106 

Milan,  Edict  of,  issued,  107, 
115;  important  clauses, 
107,  108;  principles  and 
motives  of,  109,  no  ff.; 
hailed  by  the  Christians, 
153;  thrown  over  by  Li- 
cinius,  155 

Military  forces,  organisation 
of,  336,  337 

Miltiades  elected  bishop,  152 

Milvian  Bridge,  battle  of,  86, 
87,  92 

Minervina,  first  wife  of  Con- 
stantine,  son  of,  122,  123 

Moesia,  given  over  to  Con- 
stantine,  122;  invaded  by 
Goths  and  Sarmatse,  123 

Montanism,  in  Northern 
Africa,  159 


N 


Naissus,  birthplace  of  Con- 
stantine,  44,  260 

Narses  sues  for  peace.  7 

Neo-Platonists,  influence,  19, 
197;  discussions  of  interest 
to,  216 

"New  Rome,"  259 

Newman,  Cardinal,  quoted, 
on  death  of  Arius,  300 

r^icaea,  Canons  of,  231,  232 

Nicsea,  Council  of,  called  by 
Constantine,  211;  mem- 
bers, 212-214;  language, 
213;  great  interest  aroused 
in,  215;  Constantine  opens 
the  Council,  217-220; 
splits  up  into  parties,  221 
ff.;  proceedings.  221  ff.; 
adopts  Nicene  Creed,  228; 
excommunicates  Arius, 
231;  decision  in  regard  to 
Easter,  231;  draws  up 
Canons  of  Nicaa,  231;  fare- 
well address  by  Constan- 
tine, 233;  dismissed,  234 

Nicene  Creed    adopted,    228 

Nicomedia,  capital  of  Dio- 
cletian, 8,  39,  258,  260; 
Christian  church  erected 
at,  13  ;  church  at,  razed,  24 

No^■atianism  in  Northern 
Africa,  159 

Numerian,  son  of  Carus,  Em- 
pire divided  between  Cari- 
nus  and,  4;  death,  5 


Pagan  clergy,  146 

Pamphylians,  petition  of, 
142,  143 

Pannonia,  given  over  to  Con- 
stantine, 122;  invaded  by 
Goths  and  Sarmatae,  123 

Paphnutius,  232,  233 


Index 


367 


Parthia,  war  with  Rome,  7 

Parthians,  2 

"Passion  of  the  Saints,"  35, 
36. 

Paulinus  of  Nola,  354 

PauUnus  of  Tyre,  treatment 
of  Arius,  196;  letter  from 
Eusebius  of  Nicomedia, 
202 

Persia,  relations  with  Con- 
stantine,  254-256 

Philostorgius,  on  Fausta,  244 

Philoxenos,  273 

Polybius,  quoted,  on  Byzan- 
tium, 262 

Porphyry,  Neo  -  Platonist 
philosopher,  19 

Porphyry  Pillar,  the,  270 

Praetorian  praefects,  331,  332 

Prffitorians,  mutiny  at  Rome, 
57;  camps  abolished,  58; 
rule  Rome,  77,  78;  dis- 
banded, 89 

Praetors,  334 

Prisca,  wife  of  Diocletian,  a 
Christian,  13;  exiled,  118, 
119;  death,  120,  132 

Probus,  4,  17 

Prudentius,  354 

Purpurius,  Bishop  of  Limata, 
161 

R 

Roman  Empire,  threatened 
fall  in  third  century,  i  ff.; 
turn  of  fortune,  3 ;  under 
Diocletian,  5  ff.;  330;  di- 
vided into  twelve  dioceses, 
10,  331;  prosperity,  11; 
population,  12;  shared  by 
Constantine  and  Licinius, 
1 20 ;  invaded  by  Goths  and 
Sarmatae,  123,  124;  united, 
133;  peace ,  252;  war  with 
Goths  and  Sarmatae,  252; 
reorganisation  under  Con- 
stantine, 330  ff.;  disinte- 
gration, 342  ff. 


Rome,  57,  258 
Rome,  Council  of,  176 
Ruricius   Pompeianus,   holds 
Verona,  83;  killed,  85 

S 

Sabinus,  praefect,  140,  143 

St.  Irene,  Church  of,  de- 
scription of,  274,  275 

St.  Sophia,  Church  of,  274 

St.  Stephen,  Church  of,  278 

Sapor,  king  of  Persia,  rela- 
tions with  Constantine, 
254-256 

Sarmatae,  invade  Roman  Em- 
pire, 123;  turn  to  Constan- 
tine for  help,  253 

Saturninus,  speech  of,  3 

Secundus,  Bishop  of  Tigisis, 
president  of  synod  at  Cirta, 
161,  162,  165 

Secundus  of  Ptolemais,  Bish- 
op, friend  of  Arius,  196 

Senate,  335,  336 

Seneca,  quoted,  350 

Senecio,  120 

Severus,  Emperor,  becomes 
Caesar,  40,  56,  57;  nomi- 
nated by  Galerius,  41,  59; 
domain,  56 ;  besieges  Rome, 
59;  besieged  by  Maximian 
and  Maxentius,  59-60;  is 
given  choice  of  death,  72 

Simon  Stylites,  347 

Sirmitom,  capital  of  Galerius, 
8 

Slavery,  342 

Socrates,  quoted,  216,  220, 
287,  288,  298,  299 

Sopater,  pagan  philosopher, 
in  favour  with  Constan- 
tine, 324 

Sotades  of  Crete,  pagan  poet, 
204 

Sozomen,  quoted,  216 

Stanley,  Dean,  History  of  the 
Eastern  Church,  quoted, 
226 


3^^ 


Index 


Sylvanus,  Bishop,  162 
Sylvester,  Bishop  of  Rome, 
sends  representatives  to 
Council  of  Aries  ,175;  letter 
to,  from  Council  of  Aries, 
176, 177  ;  absent  from  Coun- 
cil of  Nicsea,  212,  213; 
baptises  Constantine,  248; 
legends  concerning  Con- 
stantine and,  248,  249 

T 

Tacitus,  rule  of,  4;  on  child- 
less life,  349 

Taxation,  337-342 

Temporal  Power,  legend  of 
origin,  248,  249 

Terminalia,  Festival  of,  24 

Tertullian  and  his  doctrine, 

351 

Theban  Legion,  legend  of  its 
massacre,  14,  15 

Theodora,  wife  of  Constan- 
tius  Chlorus,  44 

Theodoretus,  rival  of  Arius, 
190;  on  the  Council  of 
Nicaea,  220,  223 

Theodosius  II.,  rebuilds  walls 
of  Constantinople,  266;  at- 
titude toward  recluses,  348 

Theodotus  of  Ancyra,  30 

Theognis  of  Nicaea,  and  Ni- 
cene  Creed,  230,  231;  ex- 
iled, 231 ;  recalled,  287,  288 

Theonas,  Bishop  of  Marmor- 
ica,  friend  of  Arius,  196 

Theotecnus,  Governor  of  An- 
tioch,  142;  invented  new 
deity,  145 


Thessalonica,  naval  harbour, 

127 
Thirty  Tyrants,  period  of,  2 
Tiridates,  ruler  of  Armenia,  6 
Tithe  lands,  i 
Trinitarians  vs.  Arians,   221, 

223—226 
Twelfth   Legion,   soldiers  of, 

martyrs,  156 
Tyre,     Council    of,    trial    of 

Athanasius,  293-295 


U 


Urbanus,  Governor  of  Pales- 
tine, 136 


Valens,  appointed  Csesar, 
122;  recalls  recluses  from 
the  desert,  348 

Valentinianus,  the  Curator, 
161 

Valeria,  daughter  of  Diocle- 
tian, a  Christian,  13  ;  widow 
of  Galerius,  118;  Maximin 
proposes  marriage  to,  118; 
exiled,  119 

Valerian,  Emperor,  taken 
prisoner,  2  ;  persecution  of 
the  Christians,  13 

Victor  of  Russicas,  161 


Zosimus     on     Constantine 's 
character,  303 


DATE  DUE 

MAY  3 

02081 

MAYO 

iZliUV 

^^Y 

Pr.nIM 

COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 


1010654356 


